


you and me could be forever (perfectly perfect together)

by ImJustLikeMe



Series: the only broken-hearted loser you'll ever need [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drama, F/M, Family, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-09
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-03 14:19:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 32,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4104004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImJustLikeMe/pseuds/ImJustLikeMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They were friends. Good friends. Best friends. Best friends with the best benefits.<br/>No. Not anymore.<br/>That was a long time ago—eight months ago. A lot had changed in eight months.<br/>---<br/>Bellamy is back after being deployed for 8 months and Clarke is adamant that after the time apart things are going to be different (but they probably won't, she just likes to think they will, okay?).</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Parts 1-3

**Author's Note:**

> Hi. So I write a lot on FanFiction.net and have been in love with The 100 for a long time but I've found I like The 100 fics on ao3 so much better. So I've been binge-reading and this got in my head and 30,000 words and 70 pages later here I am. I decided to post it in two parts just so it's not so much all at once - but rest assured the entire story is done so the second part will be out in a few days. I hope you like, I spent a lot of time on this!  
> Your feedback means a lot to me!  
> Title from Magazines, by Brand New (my favorite band)

-xoxo-1-xoxo-

“Griffin! Are we doing this?”

Clarke ignored her newer roommate and continued to look in the mirror.

It was not a big deal.

Okay, it was a mediocre deal, but not a huge deal. Not a big enough deal to stare at herself in the mirror for twenty minutes and change into every party outfit in her closet. It was just a good friend coming home from overseas safe and sound and a party being thrown in his honor. Her outfit wasn’t important because he was safe and that was what mattered. Not clothes.

She nodded and took in her final outfit (hopefully). A pair of dark jeans that O called the “Come and Get It” jeans, a white low scoop neck tee and fitted black leather jacket over top. It was simple, sexy, definitely party attire, and didn’t look like she was trying too hard. Right?

Clarke was not trying to show him what he had been missing because one, that would not be fair since he was, you know, fighting for their country and two, there was nothing for him to miss because they were never together.

Zero dating. None. Just a lot of orgasms. Hundreds of fucking fantastic orgasms, the best orgasms she’d ever had. Clarke rolled her eyes at herself. Hundreds was dramatic. Thousands, at least. Wait. That was even more dramatic.

What the fuck was wrong with her? They were friends. Good friends. Best friends. Best friends with the best benefits. But that was who they were _before_ ; they were not going to be like that _now_. Not anymore.

That was a long time ago—eight months ago. A lot had changed in eight months. She’d dropped out of med-school, changed majors, changed colleges, moved in with O and Rae, dated a total fucking loser (unfortunately), and had fun.

Yes. Clarke Griffin was having fun. She was enjoying life, not suffering through it to live up to some twisted expectation her mother had. But she would be lying if him being shipped off had nothing to do with it. Him leaving had too much to do with it.

The fucker.

So yeah, maybe she did want to show him what he was missing. Because he was missing a lot, in the army or not and it was time he realized that— well she didn’t know what she wanted him to realize but he was going to fucking realize it because it was important that he did so.

Clarke Griffin was a changed woman and— wait, that was what he was going to realize. Yes. She was different, happier, not the same girl he left behind that went weak in the knees from his steamy glances and all-knowing hands that did whatever her mind told them to. Her mind and his hands had a telepathic connection. No, they _did_ , because that was no longer a thing. No more connection, no more weak knees, no more heavy breathing because he looked fucking amazing in everything and no more wonderful hands (again, unfortunately).

She was different and she was going to be damned if he did not see that because he was the one that did it. And no, she was not going to thank him for it because that would be ineffective to the whole point. Or something.

“Griffin!” Raven practically broke down the door to find Clarke still staring at herself. “Hello? Are we doing this shit or what? This party is all you guys have fuckin’ talked about for weeks and I will be damned if we miss it because you’re too busy looking at yourself. I will not live with Octavia’s whining because of you.”

“You know the door was unlocked, right? No need to bull rush it,” Clarke simply replied while making sure everything she needed was in her jacket’s pockets.

She had never really been a purse girl or even a girlie girl. She was the tomboy girl—the girl who had grown up with her best friend being a boy, a boy who never really saw her as a girl until she’d been unable to go swimming one summer because she’d had her period. Wells had stared at her like she’d grown three heads because girls got their periods, not _Clarke_. He’d said so himself, which caused her to push him into the pool because she was a fucking girl and there was nothing wrong with that. She could still beat his ass and he was sure to remember it after that. (Of course her mother was not happy about that—it wasn’t ladylike.)

Becoming best friends with Octavia hadn’t changed her much. Octavia was girlier, but only slightly (she was better with the makeup and wardrobe aspects) having been raised by her big brother who had his friends around all the time acting like they were her big brothers too. It annoyed her to no end, something she was quick to complain about before proving she was not their sister by wearing skimpy clothes to remind them. “I have one big brother, not one billion,” she’d insist while purposefully showing a little too much cleavage (only really to annoy her big brother, of course). And it’d worked because then her one big brother had to beat up his ‘billion’ friends for realizing his little sister was not so little anymore.

Raven didn’t help matters either because even though they were new(er) friends they already had a close relationship. Dating the same douchebag at the same time will do that. The funny thing was that they never blamed each other, just the douchebag, and that was how they had become friends. Raven was probably more of a boy than she was—the girl had a mouth of a sailor, loved sports, was smarter than anyone she knew, consistently rocked the ripped jeans and tight t-shirt look with her hair up and somehow always managed to look like a fucking supermodel without even trying. It was not fair. When she dressed up even Clarke couldn’t look away (it helped that she was bi, but still. Octavia looked too).

“This is a big deal, right?” Raven questioned once they finally got into the old _Supernatural_ -esque Impala she’d rebuilt herself ( **before** _Supernatural_ , she’d say when someone made the connection). “The prodigal son returns?”

Raven had just instantly fit into their friend group that sometimes Clarke forgot she hadn’t been around forever. “I mean, he’s not really the son but— yeah, I guess.”

“I bet Jasper’s changed his shorts at least twice from jizzing once they got word his hero was finally home.”

Clarke couldn’t help but laugh. “Probably. Jasper and Monty used to follow him around like one big shadow. He could do no wrong, but he was never a dick to them about it. He kinda liked having someone look up to him, made him want to be better. Monty likes to call him their benevolent dictator.”

Raven raised an eyebrow and laughed a little herself. “And it’s a big deal for you too, right?”

There was no use brushing it off with Raven. That girl could already see through her masks and walls. It was fucking annoying. “I mean, yeah, but it’s long over. It was never really under. Wait. I mean—“ she was cut off by the mechanic’s laughing. “Stop! I’m trying to be a strong, independent woman over here and you undermining that is not helping.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not undermining your stance as a strong woman or whatever, it’s just— I don’t even know. I just feel like this is going to be a shitshow, you know?”

“Oh, definitely. Anything involving the whole gang to get back together is a shitshow. Plus, Monty and Jasper throw the best parties.”

Ten minutes into the drive over Clarke’s hands were not clammy or warm, they were normal body temperature. They just were. But if she rubbed them on her jeans again there definitely was going to be a sweat stain. When they reached Jasper and Monty’s place, or as it was more commonly known the shit shack, she just about jumped out of the car because she definitely needed some of Monty’s moonshine in her system.

There were two things very true about Monty and Jasper:  
1\. They threw the best parties.  
2\. They threw the best parties because they had their own still and grew their own weed.  
And it helped that they rented a house in the middle of fucking nowhere so their parties could be crazy.

The boys rushed out of the shack upon their arrival and picked her up in a bear hug. Apparently their hero was not there yet (thank God) because if he was they would have to be personally removed from the man’s asshole.

And it reminded her that there were actually three things very true about Monty and Jasper:  
3\. They were the best friends a girl could have. They were protective older brothers, annoying little brothers, and everything in between at the same time.

Monty was more of a girl than she was (he was gay, but you can be totally straight and still act like more of a girl than Clarke) and often knew more about ‘girlie’ things than she did. The boy had a problem with social media and could tell you exactly what Kim Kardashian was doing an hour ago, not because he liked her, but because that was just his thing. (Plus he totally had a crush on Scott Disick. “He’s just the best Kardashian!” he’d insist when they teased him about it.) He could also hack into just about anything with a shitty laptop.

Jasper seemed like the biggest puppy dog in the world but he also had a mean bite. If asked he’d do anything for a friend and he defended his best friends no matter what. One time he’d punched Octavia’s latest crush because the guy had gotten drunk and became too handsy with her (before big, bad Bellamy could step in) and he’d been O’s hero for a whole month. Bellamy grumbled because if he’d done that he would have gotten the silent treatment for a month, but Jasper got batch after batch of his little sister’s special cookies. It just caused Clarke to giggle into her hand, but not say a word about it. She knew better than to get in the middle of a Blake sibling squabble.

When Clarke came back to reality Jasper and Monty were both talking at the same time. They were already high and, apparently, had made the best batch of moonshine yet but they said that every time they made moonshine. Of course this time they made one of Bellamy’s favorites and they made it strong. How they distinguished it was beyond her—it all tasted like a mixture of paint thinner and gasoline in the end.

“Jasper, how’s the pants?” Raven interjected as they continued to hold onto Clarke excitedly. Once they remembered she was there too they quickly latched onto her. The boys were definitely huggers, especially when high.

“And, uh, my pants are fine?” Jasper finally answered a few moments later and both girls laughed.

“They here yet?”

Clarke waited for Jasper’s answer, but already knew it, she just wanted to hear it. “No. O called, they got held up. She probably wanted to keep Bellamy’s attention solely on her for a little while longer or something.”

Monty snorted. “Big surprise there. Come try the moonshine before the fiends get their hands on it. We all know you’re the only one who can really stomach it.”

Clarke grinned and let the boys lead them into the house and bring them right to the front of the moonshine line. Being a part of the original crew definitely had its perks and Raven had kind of been grandfathered in to it.

“Ah, fuck, how do you drink this shit regularly? I can literally feel my liver quivering right now,” Raven stated ten minutes later after her first gulp.

Clarke grinned into her cup. It was true, but she somehow enjoyed the stuff. Maybe time had dulled her tastebuds. “You think it’s bad now you should have been around when they just started trying to make it. You missed the alcohol poisoning incident.”

“That was not alcohol poisoning!” Monty insisted. “It was just _regular_ poisoning. Don’t diss my shit, Clarke.”

“Well excuse me,” she replied in a laugh. “Alright, Jasper, you ready?”

Jasper stood up straighter and held his cup up to hers just to make sure they were at similar fullness. Then he nodded and they cheers’ed before downing their entire first servings together like they always did when Monty made moonshine. It was their ritual.

“Holy shit, Monty!” Clarke coughed afterwards. It burned and tasted like mint, like swallowing a whole tube of toothpaste that was slowly falling down her throat and settling at the bottom of her stomach, heavy and full of heat. Her eyes went fuzzy for a moment before she shook it off.

“I told you it was my best stuff yet!”

“Why do we do that again? I regret it every [hiccup] time,” Jasper groaned with a hand on his stomach as if that would help the minty ache.

Clarke just grinned and took Monty’s cup to take another swig. “You bringing out the tank tonight?” he questioned, not caring that his cup had been replaced with her empty one. It was something she did often.

Clarke shrugged while taking in a large breath to calm the fire building in her stomach. The stuff was good, strong.

“Yeah she is! Why not break out the tank? Our boy is back!” Jasper exclaimed while refilling his own cup. There were a few cheers in the crowd at that and Clarke rolled her eyes.

Half the people there didn’t even know Bellamy, really know him like they did. Sure they were probably happy he was home, but they were happier about the party and free moonshine.

Raven shook her head at the boys, but Clarke found herself drinking more in response. She could outdrink most of the boys, especially Monty and Jasper (like it was hard) and when she drank heavily they called her stomach the tank. It was lame, but it stuck, and she’d learned to live with it. After all it could be worse. The only person she probably couldn’t outdrink was— no, she wasn’t going to deal with that until he got here and when he got here she planned on being good and buzzed so she wouldn’t making a fucking fool of herself. Hopefully.

It was half an hour later (not to mention another cup and a half of moonshine) before the guest of honor arrived. She could tell by how loud everyone suddenly became and then they rushed to the front door to welcome him home.

“Fore fuck’s sake, he’s been home for like nine hours now,” Clarke said over the music as she continued to dance with Raven. The leather jacket had been tossed over the back of a chair, leaving her in the white tee that was a little see through so the black bra underneath was visible. “It’s not like he’s literally stepping off the goddamn plane.”

She was not going to rush outside with everyone else and jump in his arms. That was something the old Clarke would do. New Clarke was going to keep dancing with Raven and let him come to her. Or not. Whatever.

“Nine hours, huh? You’ve been counting?”

Clarke glared. “No, I can just do simple math, dipshit.”

Raven just rolled her eyes and continued to dance.

It was ten minutes later when the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. It wasn’t fair she could just feel him like that, or that he had the kind of gaze that had the ability to be felt. Instantly Clarke stopped dancing and let out a shaky breath before turning around to find the cause of all her latest problems.

Bellamy Blake was leaning against the doorjamb that led into the living room (that had been transformed into the dance floor), staring directly at her, a smirk permanently planted on his face like he knew what he was doing. Well, of course he knew what he was doing, the asshole was doing it on purpose too. His skin had gotten darker and he had more freckles, and his hair was surprisingly longer than expected (she never liked it short). It didn’t help that his arms were popping out of his black t-shirt’s sleeves while the torso was tight on him too, practically outlining his abs.

God, did he have to come home hotter than how he left? That was just unfair! It was supposed to happen the other way around. She was supposed to be hotter and he was supposed to drool. Fuck.

The music had gotten conveniently lower so she heard him perfectly when he spoke up in his husky tone, “What? I don’t get a hug after being away for eight months, Princess? I did hold up my end of the bargain and come home in one piece.”

It was not supposed to happen. Clarke was not supposed to feel weak in the knees and have butterflies flap around in her stomach. She wasn’t supposed to stumble away from Raven and into his arms, but she did. She so did.

She fucking latched onto him like he didn’t come home in one piece and he instantly buried his face into her neck. Soon she regretted wearing her comfy motorcycle boots because somehow she forgot how fucking short she was compared to him and wanted nothing more than to be closer in any way she could.

“Fuck, Clarke,” he said into her neck and held her tighter, but it sounded like a moan in her ear. “I missed you so much.”

She let out a shaky breath and burrowed into him. “I missed you too, Bell.”

Two seconds and she’d already fucked up her entire plan to not fall into his arms. And with that the shitshow had finally begun.

-xo-

Moonshine didn’t quite have the ring to it after the party got into full swing.

Everyone was crowding Bellamy and cheers-ing in his name every five minutes. Maybe that was why she didn’t want to drink anymore—it was hard to enjoy yourself when everyone was screaming your not-ex-boyfriend’s fucking name nonstop.

It helped that everyone was flying high because of his return though. It was nice to see all the people she loved happy. Octavia could not stop smiling, Monty and Jasper looked like they’d seen God for the first time, even Miller cracked a grin and that guy barely had emotions. It was sweet.

All that left was Clarke, who was indifferent about the whole thing. Bellamy was home safe and sound and that was definitely something to be happy about. And she was happy he was home safe, but he was there, and she had thought the eight months apart would change something. Of course it didn’t.

“It’s rude to ignore your devoted subjects, you know.”

Clarke didn’t even bother to turn around. “I think they are your subjects tonight. It’s your coming home party, remember?”

Bellamy sat down next to her on the back porch steps. “Yeah, but after so many toasts they’re all too far gone to notice I’m not there to drink when they yell my name loudly.”

“What a shame.”

He chuckled. “I wasn’t sure if you’d be here. O said you would, but still.”

Clarke turned to look him in the eye. His dark brown eyes seemed darker after his time away, and they probably had every right to be. “I wouldn’t miss this, Bell. I am happy you’re home in one piece.”

He licked his lips and nudged her shoulder with his. “Thanks, you know, for taking care of O while I was gone. I don’t think she would have survived without you.”

“She’s stronger than you think,” Clarke replied before looking forward again, but wasn’t going to tell him about how for the first week after he’d left the two girls had shared a bed but hardly slept due to their worry. She wasn’t going to tell him about how O would have nightmares of horrible things happening to him and so she’d climb into Clarke’s bed crying. She wasn’t going to tell him how O had become obsessed with listening to the news just in case something happened. Bellamy didn’t need to know all that so all she said was, “And living with her is like a permanent sleepover. It’s been great.”

Octavia didn’t want to live in her and Bellamy’s house all by herself for eight months so she and Clarke had found an apartment together. The Blake house, the house that had been their grandfather’s, and then their mother’s until she died, and now (technically) Bellamy’s was just too big for one Blake to live in, or at least that was what Octavia said. Clarke just thought Octavia living amongst her brother’s things without him around would be too hard on her. Plus, living together had been fun.

“She is going to stay living with you, you know,” Bellamy spoke up a few silent moments later.

Clarke turned sideways on the steps and looked at him a little wide-eyed. She’d always just suspected with Bellamy home Octavia would go back to the house once the lease was up. It wasn’t like they had spoken about it, but they did have a few months left on the lease before they had to talk about it. Octavia just belonged in the Blake house, it was her home.

“She told me today. She likes her newfound independence and said it’s time I live my life without worrying about her. Like her being out from underneath my roof is going to help me _not_ worry.”

“I’m pretty sure it’s just because sneaking Lincoln in and out of the house would be too difficult for her. You won’t want him sleeping over and she’d be doing it anyways and it’d be too much of a hassle, especially with your soldier-senses. She did tell you about Lincoln, right?”

Bellamy let out a long, agitated breath while leaning back on his hands. “Yes. She did.”

“Oh, good. He’s hot. Definitely more built than you, so I’d watch out if you’re looking to throw down.”

“Hot or not if he makes my sister cry he’s fucking done,” Bellamy stated. “And he is not more built than me.”

Clarke laughed and shook her head at that. “Yeah, I’ve noticed you’ve changed a bit in that department.” They were quiet again for long moment and she was honestly surprised he didn’t have anything to add. She opened her mouth to say something, anything to end the silence, when he reached a hand over to rest on top of hers and it caused her to close her mouth with an audible (and embarrassing) pop.

“Thank you for everything you’ve done for me, Clarke, and I’m not just talking about being there for O. I kept everything you sent me—the letters, the pictures, the drawings. I really enjoyed that weird one that was literally just a bunch of scribbles that somehow made out my face and hair,” he admitted in a chuckle.

Clarke smiled, but chose not to voice how that particular doodle had been done during class while thinking (more like worrying) about him and O had seen it while she was attempting to study a few days later. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. “I didn’t want to send you that, but O found it and thought it was hilarious. She insisted that it would make you smile or something.”

“It did. But my hair is not that bad.”

“Yeah, no. Admit it, Blake, you got a mane on your hands when it’s long.”

He laughed this time and she tried not to let the sound make her shiver. “Thank you. The letters, especially from you, made it a little bit easier to breathe over there. I don’t know what I would have done without it, without you.”

Clarke closed her eyes. Why did he always say the right thing? Words were Bellamy Blake’s _thing_. He could get a girl into bed without even touching her, without a hint of suggestive body language, although he was good at that too. She’d seen him do it before on a dare—just talk a girl into bed, no touching allowed. Hell, she’d had it done to her before and still she fell for it every damn time.

“You’re one of my best friends, Bell, of course I’d make sure to keep in contact. Life wasn’t the same without you around. It kind felt empty, actually.”

“Is that why you got a boyfriend while I was gone?”

Clarke tossed his hand back into his own lap. Just when she was trying to be nice, painfully honest even, he brings out the usual asshole. Of course. “Fuck you, Bellamy, you’re not allowed to judge me like that,” she insisted and pushed off the stairs to stand in the grass before him. “And besides he was barely my boyfriend when I found out he had another girlfriend so there.” ‘So there’? How the fuck did that help? She shook her head at the thought.

He just stared at her and kept his cool. Somehow that made her angrier. Bellamy always knew how to get a rise out of her and enjoyed doing it too. “So you got together after I left and broke up with him before I came home?”

“Okay, cocky much? It had nothing to do with you. I didn’t get to know him until after you left and found out about Raven before you came home so it’s merely coincidental that— you know what? This is not about you and I’m not going to explain myself.”

“You never mentioned him in any of your letters and I got about one every other week, sometimes one every week. I got pictures and drawings and funny doodles of my hair, but not one mention of a boyfriend or even a crush,” he commented while standing before her.

Clarke let out a very audible ‘ech’ in annoyance. “So? I got letters from you too, but I didn’t read anything about a girl and I know there are female soldiers and they’re outspoken and sexy and just your type. I’m sure you’ve fucked another girl in eight months. That happens over there, right?”

“Outspoken and sexy, huh? That’s my type?”

“Way to sidestep the subject, Bellamy. You know, that’s just like you. That’s your problem, you never take this shit seriously so maybe I—“

Bellamy cut her off with his lips and Clarke was ashamed of the tiny moan that he elicited from her. He still knew just how to kiss her so it made her weak and play with her tongue in just the right way. It infuriated her, but Bellamy was just plain infuriating himself.

Clarke was fully aware she should have pushed him away, that this was what she was trying to avoid, but it’s Bellamy and she never really had the ability to say no to him. It’s un-fucking-fortunate, but true. Her arms went from clutching his shirt to looping around his neck so her hands could grab onto his hair, his incredibly soft hair that always slipped through her fingers in the best way. Even when it was long and unbrushed and he’d just woken up it was still silky.

“Mm, Bell,” she whispered when he moved to her ear and tugged on the lobe before enveloping it between his lips the way she adored.

“I haven’t been with anyone else in eight months,” he admitted before sucking on her pulse point to the beat of her heart. Right when she was good and rattled and breathing heavy he pulled away. “You’re the last girl I kissed, Clarke, and I wanted you to be the first one I kissed when I came home.”

And with that Clarke knew she was a goner because Bellamy always said the right thing and she was a sucker for his words.

-xo-

Bellamy and Clarke had never actually dated.

Bellamy didn’t date; it wasn’t him as he’d say. He had girl-friends, and often he’d keep one around for a while. The girl would come to their parties and sometimes be at the house when everyone hung out. She’d sit on his lap and mark her territory that Bellamy Blake was hers—for now. He would never call them his girlfriend and even give them hard looks when they attempted to call themselves that, a look that almost made them feel ashamed because everyone knew that he wasn’t that guy. Girls had given up trying to ‘tame’ him years ago and instead just valued their turn in his lap.

It was often something that made Clarke angry because he just used women like it was nothing and would get them into fights.

“Do I ever once lead them on, Princess? Do I ever call us hanging out a date or say she’s more to me than a warm body? Do I ever make her think I’m interested in more? No, I don’t, and for them to think otherwise is not my doing. It’s their own fault.”

She’d turn red but could say nothing because he was right and it was utterly annoying. Girls knew what they were getting into with him and they’d just willingly go along with it. He was very vocal about how he didn’t want a girlfriend, another responsibility. But it didn’t make it any less sad to see a girl rushing out of the Blake house while holding back tears because he’d finally given her the boot. And it didn’t make it any easier when she became one of those girls one day.

So no, Bellamy and Clarke never dated, but when they weren’t dating other people (or when _Clarke_ wasn’t dating someone) they ‘hung out’ together. Often. It wouldn’t be public, she wasn’t the kind of girl to sit in his lap and giggle at how much of an asshole he can be. She didn’t want to be thought of as one of his girls. But she was the girl who would stick around after the parties, after Octavia went to sleep, and end up in his bedroom.

Clarke was the girl who would half-snuggle him while watching the History Channel and suffered through a(nother) documentary on the Romans or Greek mythology. She was the girl who knew he sometimes used orange juice in his cereal instead of milk because ‘why not? It’s all going to the same place.’ She was the girl who knew everything he had sacrificed in order to raise his little sister because their mother wasn’t around much. She was the girl who knew as much as he loved his mother he also still held a grudge against the way he had to grow up—too fast. Clarke was the girl who knew Bellamy inside and out and still wasn’t the girl to finally get the title of girlfriend.

Clarke was the girl to wake up naked next to him in bed while having a nightmare and not run away because that would be the easy thing to do. Clarke was the girl who, instead, would pull him out of it and make him feel better.

His arm was wrapped around her shoulders from behind as he slept with his other one splayed across her abdomen. (Yes, Bellamy Blake was a cuddler after sex, or at least after sex with her.) It wasn’t the position that bothered her. In fact, she’d missed him holding her, his breath on the back of her neck, his skin brushing against hers, the way he’d often wake her in some sexual act. What bothered her was how the position had tightened significantly since they’d fallen asleep.

Clarke turned in his arms and dragged her knuckles down his jawline softly and kissed the sensitive flesh below his ear. “Bell, ba— wake up.” He had nightmares before, usually about his mom, but it seemed like this was something different, darker.

A moment later his eyes snapped open and he sat up a bit, bringing her with him, his hold still firm, protective.

“Hey, it’s just me. You’re home.” Her words were soft and soothing.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness and when Bellamy soon saw that he was home he visibly deflated and fell back to the bed. “Sorry.”

“Are you okay?” She was very aware that she was naked and pressed against him, but pushed it to the back of her mind when he didn’t answer. “Was it about… over there?”

Bellamy’s arms unwound from around her and Clarke knew she’d made a mistake. It wasn’t about his mom, but it was about his time served and those wounds were still too fresh. Hell, his mom’s accident was still an oozing sore.

“Everything’s just fine, Princess. It’s all over now.”

The words hit close to home and she bit down so hard on her lip she tasted blood. “Right.” Clarke made a move to get out of bed and find her clothes when his arms circled around her middle and tugged her back to his chest. “I should go, Bell.”

“You know you’re welcome here, Clarke. All night.” It could have been taken as sexual, as an asshole Bellamy Blake move, but she knew that wasn’t how it was intended. Usually Bellamy did prefer girls to leave before morning, but would never actually kick them out.

It was where his words worked again, just in a different way. “I don’t want to put Octavia in that position,” he’d tell them. But Clarke was different.

Clarke was the one girl welcome in the morning because while she was his little sister’s best friend she was one of his best friends too. “Why, because you want to go for round two?”

Bellamy grinned. “I think you mean round four.”

“You might be able to get away with three, but I’m only giving you that because you’re a hero—“ she broke off in a laugh when he tickled her sides. Clarke bit her lip again when she found that the blanket had dropped and her chest was exposed and his eyes weren’t being subtle.

“I missed these,” he murmured in his low, husky tone while a finger outlined one of her breasts.

“I can’t imagine why,” she teased, her tone just as quiet.

She knew it was one of his favorite things about her body. Admittedly they were a little bigger than what was usual for her body type and for a long time she disliked them. Buying shirts was a pain, bras were even harder, and too many guys ‘accidentally’ would brush against them. But Bellamy spent some time showing her how beautiful he thought they were and that had been fun.

Bellamy’s head leaned forward and his lips grazed her collarbone. “They tell you you’ll miss home, your family, your bed,” he whispered against her skin. “But it’s the small things that eat away at you. I missed the leaves falling off the trees and the way you feel when you get home and fall on the couch with a beer, that feeling of safety. I even missed how O’s room smells when she’s getting ready to go out and she’d sprayed about six different perfumes to figure out which one she wanted—and I fucking hate that smell.”

Clarke laughed into his hair, her hands threading through the silky strands.

“But I remember the night before I left we did this… we stayed up late and talked and had sex for hours.” She pressed a kiss to the crown of his head, but said nothing. “And I remember just holding them for a moment before I become otherwise engaged.” His hands cupped the underside of her breasts and his thumbs flicked over the pebbled nipples. “I felt their heaviness and I liked that feeling.” His lips stopped ghosting over her chest and he looked up into her eyes. “I missed it. I know that’s strange, but hey, it’s the small things.”

“You wanna be my personal bra?” she questioned while licking her lips. “I’d save a shit-ton of money and hey, you like it, right?”

Bellamy smirked and pressed soft kiss to her lips. “Fuck, if that was a job…” he stopped in a growl and took her lips in between his again, this time for longer.

Clarke wanted to get lost in his kiss, to let his hands roam and to see oblivion because of those hands (and other important body parts), but that would be the easy thing to do. And Clarke always chose the road less traveled by, even if it meant hearing what she didn’t want to. “Bell.”

His hands rested on the sides of her face, his fingers massaging the sensitive skin under her ear in just the right way. “Hm?”

She looked into his eyes and bit his lip aggressively, causing him to make the growling noise again. Before he could take control once more she spoke up. “I know I know the answer, but I just… but it’s been so long and you know me, I obsess.” It didn’t make sense, but Clarke knew he knew what she wanted. “So in the morning…?” Bellamy hated when she asked, hated having to extinguish the glimmer of hope in the back of her mind.

It was their twisted game. Clarke fell into Bellamy’s bed, but made him tell her they weren’t possible, made him cause her that pain. Then she fell into his bed again.

His lips bruised hers in a hard kiss before he answered. “The princess doesn’t end up with the rebel. This isn’t that kind of story.”

Her eyes fell closed and she rested her forehead on his. “Okay.”

Bellamy positioned her back on the bed. “But it’s not morning yet, we still have tonight.”

They had a lot of nights and the same amount of mornings where nothing changed. She still wasn’t the girl to sit in his lap and he still wasn’t the guy who had a girlfriend.

-xo-

In the morning Clarke climbed down the wooden hill of creaky steps, yawning the whole way. Bellamy was working on restoring the home his grandfather had so much pride in, the home that his mother let crumble beneath her, but it was a slow process.

She’d hopped into her jeans and stole Bellamy’s shirt as she usually did and just had it falling down her much smaller frame when she reached the bottom to find all their friends from the boys’ party had crashed in the Blake living room.

What the hell? Why weren’t they back at the shit shack?

Them finding out she’d spent the night with Bellamy wouldn’t be a surprise, it was something they didn’t talk about, but all knew about, and that didn’t bother her. What bothered her was that she, Raven, and Octavia (although more her than the other two) hadn’t spent the last week cleaning Bellamy’s house for him to come home just for these fucks to mess it up the morning after he came back.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” she asked while opening the blinds so the bright sun shone on all their faces.

Collectively they groaned. Even Octavia had taken up space in the living room which was surprising because her room was still mostly intact upstairs.

“Small house fire, no big deal,” Monty spoke up from the floor underneath all the jackets which was all he’d had for comfort throughout the night. Octavia got the couch, Raven the loveseat, and Jasper the armchair, so he got the jackets. He probably lost rock, paper, scissors. Poor guy.

“We decided to let it air out. We’re here for our health,” Jasper agreed while snuggling into the cushions.

“Not because O and I just stocked the pantry and fridge two days ago?”

“That may have been a deciding factor,” Monty admitted.

“It was Octavia’s idea.”

Clarke sighed. “How did you guys even get here? You were all pissing yourselves when we left.”

“O called her precious Linky-poo,” Jasper cooed, causing him to get a blind kick to the shin by a hungover Octavia.

“I do not call him that.”

“You did on the phone last night,” Raven finally spoke up, her voice muffled into the loveseat.

“So Lincoln drove you all here in his pick-up truck?” Clarke asked while opening more blinds.

“Me and Jasper rode in the bed.” Because that’s safe.

Octavia laughed a little. “They also threw up outside a few times. We should make sure Bellamy hoses that down soon.”

“What does Bellamy have to do?” he came down the steps in baggy sweatpants and a white t-shirt. He saw her in his black one and smirked, making her glower. “What the fuck are you guys all doing here?”

“You’re welcome for the party,” Jasper muttered and Bellamy smacked him upside the head as he passed. “’Thank you Jasper, you’re the best. I can’t tell you how much I missed your kick-ass bashes’— ow! Stop hitting me!”

“That one was me,” Clarke informed him. “And you have to hose the outside because these two not only caused a house fire that made them sleep over, but also threw up outside after getting a ride here from Octavia’s boyfriend in the bed of his truck.”

“The fuck if I do,” Bellamy responded, sending hard eyes to the boys who sighed like they were being scolded. “They know where the hose is. You had to throw up outside my house? You couldn’t have done it inside Kennedy’s truck?”

“Wrong president, asshole,” Octavia greeted her brother with a smile despite her words. “Goodmorning.”

“Next time your boyfriend wants to drive these two idiots over and has them surf in the back of the truck make sure they can hold their alcohol.”

“Hey, we were being chivalrous!” Jasper exclaimed. “We could have made Raven ride in the back, but no.”

“Are you calling me fat, Jordan?”

“Fuck off, Reyes, I have a hangover. You know you’re a skinny bitch with a six-pack.”

Raven smiled despite her own hangover. “Thank you.”

“Who’s making breakfast?” Monty wondered as he sat up, his head shaking to fight the moonshine fog.

All eyes went to Clarke. “What? Me? I thought I wasn’t allowed near the stove since the fried chicken incident?”

“Yeah, but you make the best pancakes,” Octavia answered and the others nodded in agreement. “It’s like the only thing you can make.”

Clarke tried to be offended, but it didn’t work. It was true.

“And you’re the least hungover besides Bellamy and we can’t make him do it. That’d just be rude,” Jasper added on.

“What’s rude is vomiting on my front lawn and letting the sun bake it as we speak,” Bellamy told him darkly.

Jasper snapped the recliner closed with a huff. “We’re cleaning it, we’re cleaning it. C’mon Monty. That’s the last time we throw this asshole a party.”

Monty followed the taller boy with his head lowered. “I forgot how mean Mom and Dad are in the morning.”

Clarke glared at their backs. “I hate when they call us that.”

“Pancakes?” Bellamy asked hopefully. “Chocolate chip ones?”

She groaned. “Fine, but someone is helping me or else they will burn.”

“We know, you’re the only girl who I’ve seen burn grilled cheese beyond repair. I’ll supervise you,” Raven volunteered while sitting up. “Give me a minute to get on my feet.”

“Cool, that means I get first shower,” Octavia said happily while getting off the couch herself.

“Or you can make yourself useful and clear some shit out of the spare rooms. Miller’s moving in later today,” Bellamy suggested.

“What? Since when?” Octavia demanded.

“Since his apartment building got bought out and is being turned into a parking lot.”

“And what if I was moving back?” Octavia asked, her hip popped to one side with a hand planted on it. Classic Octavia’s pissed off stance.

“I knew you weren’t going to. You’re having too much fun living with the princess and having your boyfriend sleepover.”

Octavia glared. “He has a name and it’s not Kennedy or Washington or Bush. And I swear to God if you even try to call him Obama—“ Clarke tried not to laugh at the exchange when Bellamy cut his sister off.

“I’ll call him whatever the hell I want until I think it’s alright that my baby sister is dating him so save your breath.”

“You’re a dick, Bell.”

“You missed me,” he replied with a gleaming smile. “And while you’re at it you can clear both spare rooms because Wick’s moving in next week.”

“What the fuck, Bellamy? What if I was moving back?”

“Then you’d be living with three guys, what can I tell you?” Bellamy answered easily and she still glared. “What’s the problem, O? It’s not like they’re moving into your room. That is staying your room until you say otherwise so don’t worry about it. You know this will always be your home. Just because it’s in my name doesn’t mean it’s not yours too.”

Octavia deflated. Bellamy’s words strike again. “Fine, but I’m not doing it. I just cleaned this whole house for you. Make Jasper and Monty pull a muscle.”

“I plan to. Weren’t you making pancakes?” he asked while moving his gaze back to Clarke, his arms folding over his chest and no, she’s didn’t notice how his biceps popped out of his short sleeves.

“Oh, don’t act like I’m your fucking maid. I’m waiting for my supervisor unless you want your house burned down so you end up living with Monty and Jasper in the shit shack. They’d love to have their hero constantly breathing their air.” He rolled his eyes. “And Kyle’s moving back?”

“He’s finish with his master’s so yeah. He called yesterday to welcome me home and mentioned needing a place to stay. Having three people playing the bills instead of just me will help save money so I can do some work on the house. Figured it wouldn’t hurt.”

“You guys need your own TV show,” Raven sighed while finally standing up. “Get your ass in the kitchen, Griffin.” Raven slapped Clarke on the ass making her yelp as they walked way.

“Hey, if I did or said that I’d get slapped, and not on the ass,” Bellamy called after them.

“She’s hotter than you,” Clarke said and rolled her eyes.

“Debatable, but I have a bigger dick.”

“Whip it out and let’s compare,” Raven shouted back at him, only to get nothing in return before grinning at her friend with wagging eyebrows. Yeah, those two were going to get along just fine. “So. Last night happened.”

Clarke tried not to roll her eyes again because the action seemed redundant at that point. “It’s not going to happen again.”

“I thought you were a strong, independent woman who don’t need no man,” Raven insisted, complete with a Z-snap.

“I am! He just returned from war and—and shut up!” she ordered when Raven grinned in an I-told-you-so manner even though she didn’t tell Clarke not to do anything. She didn’t get that privilege. Octavia might, but not Raven. “It was just a welcome home.”

“Is that how you welcome all your friends home? If so no wonder that guy Wick wants to move in here.”

Clarke glared. “Ew. I am not that kind of welcome wagon. Besides, Wick is more of your type. He’s an engineer.”

Raven frowned. “Fuck engineers, they think they’re smarter than everyone else when I can fix anything better and faster than he can.”

“Mhm, go get me the milk.”

Raven returned with the unopened gallon. “So, is his dick bigger than mine?”

“Your figurative dick or literal dick?”

“Do I have a literal dick, Griffin?” Raven demanded, unamused.

“I don’t know. You could have an enlarged clitoris and sometimes— ow!” she laughed when the dark haired girl punched her shoulder. “What, I was a pre-med, I know stuff. Anyways, both figuratively and literally, Bellamy is bigger.”

“Bigger than Finn? Literally, not figuratively.”

Clarke shook her head with a small smile. “Bellamy took my virginity when I was eighteen and let’s just say it’s pretty disappointing to know every penis you’ll see after that, statistically at least, will be smaller.”

“Damn.”

“Tell me about it.”

-xoxo-2-xoxo-

“Why are we here so early again?”

“Emotional support or something.”

“O wants me for emotional support? Really?”

Clarke snorted in response. Raven was probably one of the worst for emotional support. She was the best at giving you the truth when you really needed to hear it though. “Yeah, well, now that Octavia has accepted you into the hen circle you’re stuck dealing with her chaotic love life which includes pretending you care that Bellamy is meeting Lincoln tonight.”

Raven sighed. “But why are we here? She couldn’t get ready at our place?”

“Don’t try to understand it. It makes sense to her so just go with it,” Clarke mumbled while shading in her sketch.

Switching majors and colleges caused her to get behind in credits and resulted in her having to take two courses over the winter session, and now two more in the summer. At least she was finally getting into classes having to do with being an art major. Senior year was going to suck just a bit with all the art studios she had to take in order to graduate on time.

“What about this?” Octavia bounded down the stairs of her childhood home and twirled once she reached the bottom.

“Um—“ Clarke was cut off by Raven’s burst of laughter. “It’s…nice.”

Octavia sighed and looked down at the black sundress with white flowers splattered on it like a Jackson Pollock painting. “What’s wrong with it? I think it’s cute!”

“If you’re going to church,” Raven agreed. “Or you’re a fifties housewife, you pick.”

“Clarke?”

The blonde opened her mouth and then closed it to rethink her answer. “It would be nice to meet Lincoln’s parents in, not for the get together you’re throwing as a buffer for your brother to meet your boyfriend.”

Octavia groaned before stomping back up the stairs muttering curse words.

“What’s her problem?” Bellamy wondered while collapsing on the couch next to Clarke, a beer in hand.

“You’re an asshole,” she answered easily. Raven let out a loud laugh again, but said nothing otherwise.

Bellamy shook his head at the both of them. “I’ve been home for an hour and during that she’s been holed up in her room changing like she’s a fuckin’ model or something, or you know, she actually _still lives here_ but I haven’t said a word. How the hell have I been an asshole tonight?”

“Tonight is the key word,” Clarke mumbled while looking down at her sketchbook again. “Generally, you’re an asshole and she really likes Lincoln and she’s worried about you scaring him off. So yeah, the fact that you’re an asshole is causing her to freak out about this whole thing.”

“Hey, if he’s really invested in my sister I won’t be able to scare him off, alright?”

“You’re wearing that?” Octavia was back downstairs again, this time in a pair of skin tight jeans and a black shirt that was made of lace, but wasn’t see-through until it hit the sleeves. She was wearing a push-up bra or something because her boobs were on display.

“You’re not wearing that,” Bellamy countered after he’d looked her up and down distastefully.

“I’m twenty years old, Bell, you can’t tell me what to wear. So what do you think?” she asked towards the girls.

“So they can tell you what to wear?”

“Hot.”

“Definitely go with that.”

Bellamy glared over at Clarke. “What? She does look hot!”

“That’s my baby sister, Princess.”

“Your baby sister’s wrack be poppin’ alright?”

Raven tried to hold in the laugh this time, she really did, but failed.

“Thank you, Clarke,” Octavia said with a smile. “Now, you. Bell, go change! You’re not meeting Lincoln in your sweaty work clothes! He’s important.” Bellamy was still sporting his Army physical training outfit. He had some time off since he literally just got home, but continued to do routine things he’d become accustomed to, like PT days.

“If he’s so important he doesn’t need to see your tits to realize how amazing you are, now does he?”

Octavia’s face softened. “Thank you, I think, but I’m wearing this so please go change into something at least clean for me, will ya?” Bellamy groaned and passed his beer off to Clarke before heading for the stairs. “Thank you!” Once he was in his room Octavia let out a loud whining sound that caused Raven to look like she just had to witness a toddler vomit then proceed to eat it back up. “Oh God, this is going to go horrible. I mean, I love Lincoln, I love him so much and I haven’t told him yet because he hasn’t met Bell and now he’s about to and this can make or break the whole thing and he doesn’t even care!”

“O calm down,” Clarke urged, holding a hand out to her. Octavia replaced Bellamy on the couch and began to hyperventilate. “He cares, he’s just protective. He raised you and knows you better than anyone and will never think anyone is good enough for you. If you show him how important Lincoln is he’ll accept him, he will.”

Octavia nodded and tried to even out her breathing. “I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before,” she admitted. “I loved Atom, but that was more of a first love kind of love, you know? It wasn’t like this and—“ she started breathing heavy again. “The most important person in my world is about to meet the man I gave a blowjob to in the shower this morning and it’s just freaking me out a little.”

“Oh, God, please say Bellamy’s the most important person and not the shower part,” Raven pleaded with that same face of disgust on she had worn earlier. Both Clarke and Octavia glared. “What? This is me being helpful, you’re the one who demanded I be here.”

“Everything will be fine, I promise. Bellamy will behave when he sees how great Lincoln is,” Clarke assured her and then made a disgusted face too. “And ew, O! I showered after you today.”

“Sorry,” the younger girl squeaked. “Will you talk to him?”

“Me? What? You do it, he’s the most important person in your world, remember?”

“But you’re Clarke and he listens to you more than he wants to admit. You mean so much to him, you know you do. Please, for me?”

Clarke stood with her sketchpad and sighed. “Fine, but I’m not changing for this little get together and you can’t make me,” she muttered before heading up the steps. The only thing helping matters was that now Raven was left with a squealing and too-excited Octavia. At least she was suffering because of this get together too.

With a light groan she barged into Bellamy’s room to only find him clad in a towel hung low on his hips. Her mouth dropped open and she made a strangling noise, but Bellamy only grinned while using another towel on his hair. Damn he showers quick.

“Yes, Princess?”

She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of reverting her to a sixteen year old and instead closed the door behind her and crawled onto his bed before settling in an Indian style position. “I’ve been elected to ask you to please be nice to Octavia’s boyfriend and call him by the right name,” she stated and he chuckled. “I’m serious, Bell, don’t call him Taft or Washington or McKinley, just Lincoln. And no cracks about how he’s your age and dating your little sister and you don’t like it.”

Bellamy just nodded along absent mindedly. “Black or white?”

“Seriously? You care about his race? That’s shit, Bellamy, I mean you’re like not exactly white yourself—“

“Clarke,” Bellamy broke off laughing. “Black or white shirt?” he corrected, unable to stop the laughter.

Clarke turned red. “Oh. Uh, black.”

He casually dropped the towel and began to look through his dresser. “Go on, be nice to the boyfriend, call him by the right name, yada, yada. I’m listening.”

Her eyes slammed shut after just a moment of shameless staring. “Um, I think that’s it? He’s really important to O and— do you have to be naked right now?”

“Does it bother you?”

“It’s not making this easier on me.”

“Well then you can join me, just so we’re on an even playing field.”

“Yeah, no. Nice try, though.”

“You can open your eyes, Princess.”

Clarke opened her eyes to find him still stark naked, only now he was standing right in front of her. She was physically unable to close her eyes. “I—you—hm?”

Bellamy grinned and licked his lips. “I’ll be good with honest Abe, but only because you asked so nicely.” She just nodded and tried really hard to keep eye contact. If she looked below the neck she’d be a goner, she just knew it. “Anything else you wanted?”

“Some clothes.”

“You can borrow whatever you want.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“I think it’s my best quality.”

Clarke gave him a hard look, but it only caused him to grin and climb on the bed. “Bell, no. I’m not doing this with you.”

“I’m not suggesting anything. I’m just lying naked on my bed with a beautiful girl next to me,” he insisted while leaning closer.

She went to respond, but the door opened and Octavia let out a high-pitched squeak. “Goddamit, Bellamy! I did not need to see your naked ass!”

“Doesn’t anyone knock anymore?” he questioned, pulling on Clarke to hide his midsection although his sister couldn’t see the real goods.

“Don’t use me as a blanket. You’re on a bed full of other options!”

Octavia held a hand over her eyes. “I asked you to talk to him, Clarke, not fuck him.”

“If you think this is fucking I might like Filmore better than I thought.”

“Bellamy!” Octavia whined with a stomp of her heeled foot. “Clarke, talk to him. Really talk, not blow him.”

“Like you did to Eisenhower in the shower this morning?”

Octavia gasped and slammed the door shut. “You’re gonna regret that, Griffin!” she shouted before scurrying away.

“Did you have to do that?” Bellamy whined, getting out of bed, his playful mood far gone.

Clarke grinned in victory. “I told you I wasn’t going to play this game and you got on the bed naked, so there.”

He hopped into a pair of old jeans and shrugged on a clean black t-shirt and then threw himself back on the bed next to her. “What are you drawing? I still can’t believe you gave the good ole fuck you to your mom about becoming a doctor.”

Really, rolling her eyes so much was becoming annoying. “It wasn’t like that. My mom wanted me to be a doctor. My dad would have told me do follow my dreams. He helped mellow her out and after he’d gone… it got easier to go along with her than fight about everything. It just took some time to get the fight back in me is all.”

“You’ve always had a fight in you, Princess, trust me. So, what are you drawing?”

Quickly she snapped the sketchbook shut. “Nothing. I’m probably not even going to turn it in.”

Bellamy snagged the book out of her hands and opened it to the page her pencil had marked.

Clarke turned red even though he couldn’t see her and began to nibble on her lip, but didn’t bother to try and get it back. He’d already seen it, there was no use putting up a fight. “I—it’s not done and it’s too personal to turn in. Plus it’d be weird even though art instructors are a lot cooler than pre-med professors.”

Bellamy just stared at the sketch before him. It was his hands curled around her breasts, one over the left, the other under the right, his fingertips meeting in the valley between. It resembled a sensual infinity sign but it wasn’t as sexual as it was intimate, protective, loving. “How did you…um? I don’t know what to say.”

“Well that’s a first. It’s just tits, Bell, calm down.”

He looked over at her. “No, it’s not. This is.... I know they’re my hands and I’d know your boobs anywhere. How did you do this? It’s pretty realistic.”

“Well, I see my boobs everyday so,” she stopped and went to take the drawing back, but his hands held firm onto the book. “I have this picture on my phone of your arms wrapped around my shoulders from behind. I just sort of zoomed in and replaced the middle and— it’s weird, but I don’t know, it just happened.”

Bellamy smiled over at her. “It’s beautiful.”

“We’re studying how in the earlier days of art the female body was often depicted as a joyous thing, not something to be ashamed of, and we had to draw our own interpretation. I don’t know, like I said I probably won’t turn it in. I made it too personal. I mean, it’s me and you, you know?”

He handed the book back, the smile still etched into his lips. “I think you should turn it in. You don’t have to tell them it’s us. It really is beautiful, Clarke.”

“You already said that.”

“Well, I mean it.”

Clarke nodded and cleared her throat. “Are you going to be nice to Lincoln tonight? Seriously, Bellamy, your sister is head over heels for him and he looks at her like she’s the sunrise.”

“I’ll be my usual charming self,” he said with a wink.

“No. We don’t want to send him running because of you, you have to be the opposite of yourself.”

He glared for a moment. “Funny.” They just stared at each other for a long moment. “I’ll try, I promise. If you’re right and he really sees how wonderful she is then there is nothing to worry about.”

Clarke leaned over and kissed the corner of his mouth. “You’re the best, Bell.”

Bellamy caught the back of her neck and pulled into her lips touched his. It was barely a kiss, more like memory being played out before them. Once he realized what he was doing he let go. “I— sorry. I know you don’t… anymore.”

She didn’t move away. “It’s not that, but you know what I want— I can’t go on like this.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Without thinking it over she pressed a chaste kiss to his lips anyways. “It’s okay.”

Bellamy cupped her face and rested his forehead on hers. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry for being who you are. I kinda like you,” she whispered and smiled, wanting to make things light again. The air around them felt heavy, weighed down.

“But I am so—“

“Stop apologizing, Bellamy. It’s not in your character so it’s very unbecoming.”

He just grinned and laid back on the bed, bringing her with him. Automatically she curled into him and tangled their legs together. They were both quiet for a few minutes, faintly listening to Octavia bossing the boys around downstairs to get things ready for her get together. It was due to begin in less than an hour.

Then be broke their comfortable silence with, “You’re the only one who hasn’t asked me what it’s like over there, you know.”

She picked at invisible lint on his tee. “I figured you’d open up when you’re ready.”

“It’s hot.” She looked up with a raised eyebrow. “Well, you’re hot too, but I was talking about the weather over there. It’s hot and Anakin was right on Star Wars, sand gets everywhere.”

Clarke smiled and began to play with his free hand’s fingers. “You sent me some.”

“Well you’re a weirdo that collects rocks from every new place you go. I thought you’d enjoy gesture.”

“It was very cute and thoughtful. I keep it in a jar next to all my rocks.”

“Good.” He looked up at the ceiling. “I’m not allowed to talk about most of it. I’m not allowed to tell you what I saw or what I did. And when people ask me I just shrug and say it’s my job and I did what I was told, which is mostly true. Following orders is easy. I like not having to actively make decisions. I’ve been making decisions my entire life, hard ones, you know? What do I have to do this month to make sure all the bills are paid and Octavia has money for her homecoming dress or supplies for some school project? When I was over there it’s mostly orders and I don’t have to think. I like that.”

“And when it wasn’t orders?”

“I have dreams about that part.”

Clarke rolled so she was half on top of him and laced their fingers together. “But you’re mostly unscathed, right? Octavia worries.”

“Octavia does, huh?” She just nodded at him, a faint blush in her cheeks that caused him to smile softly and push hair behind her ear. “Tell her I’m alright. Life doesn’t feel normal anymore; I wake up reaching for my gun and can’t stop looking over my shoulder, but having Wick and Miller living with me helps. I know I have two guys I can trust living under the same roof.”

“You’re a regular Three’s Company over here.”

“I guess so, but I miss the days when it was you, me, and Octavia. You never really lived here, but there were summers when I swear you only left to do laundry and get more clothes.”

Clarke squeezed his fingers. “Don’t forget the awkward Sunday brunches with my mom. Then I would come back with leftovers.”

“I swear that’s half the reason O decided to become a chef. You’d bring all that expensive food over and she’d hog it all, asking what everything was.”

“You’re welcome. Your sister is a kick-ass cook; I swear I’ve gained at least ten pounds from living with her though.”

Bellamy made a show of looking her over. “No, you didn’t, and trust me I know your body better than anyone.”

“Um, I am me, so I think I know it better.”

With a shake of his head Bellamy sat up and opened her sketchbook again, then pointed at a spot on her right-drawn boob. “Right there.”

“What about it?” she asked, a little confused and slightly amused.

“You have a freckle right there. You missed it.”

“What, no I don’t,” she half-laughed and moved her boob around in the bra cup to prove him wrong. Upon inspection she blinked and looked up at Bellamy, but he was already off the bed. She did have a freckle there.

“You can fix it later. C’mon, we have to get downstairs before O kills Jasper for making another wisecrack about Lincoln meeting me.”

Before she could respond and tell him that he was right, which he usually enjoyed, and to make a point of informing him he used the correct name he was gone.

Fuckin’ Bellamy Blake, man.

-xo-

“What the hell happened up there?” Octavia demanded sometime later when her very much planned, not at all impromptu get together was in full swing. “Did you seriously blow him? Why is he being so…human?”

Clarke shook her head. “I didn’t even touch him really. I told you I’m done with that. We just talked and I don’t know, cuddled a little.”

“Naked?”

“He was trying to be funny and you walked in at the wrong moment. Nothing happened, he got dressed right after you left, then we cuddled.”

“You guys have the most fucked up relationship ever,” Octavia decided while sipping on her mixed drink and smiling as Bellamy and Lincoln talked to one another across the room. Bellamy was even smiling a little. “But if whatever you did caused him to be nice to Lincoln I guess I can forgive you for making that comment in front of him.”

“We don’t have a relationship.” Clarke’s voice was harsh, more harsh than intended.

“Have you ever told him?”

Clarke didn’t answer the question. “O, don’t. It doesn’t matter.”

“You’re in love with my brother, Clarke,” Octavia stated, her tone low and soft, like they were telling a secret, and they were. She still didn’t answer. “Why have you never told him?”

“Why?” Clarke laughed and waved a hand in front of them to Bellamy, who now had a female hanging off his side, Lincoln all but disappeared. “That’s why. He’s not that guy. He could be, but he won’t even try and I’m not going to pine and plead. I have more pride than that.”

“Is that why you keep sleeping with him?”

“Wow, O. Thanks,” she muttered and walked away.

Clarke had never said the words out loud, never had it said to her either. It’s not real if you don’t admit it right? And she didn’t want to admit it because then she’d have to really deal with it and eventually let go. Bellamy was something she just couldn’t let go, he was too special, their not-relationship was too close to her heart.

It felt like a replay of his first welcome home party (he’d had one each week he’d been home), only when the door opened behind her she knew it wasn’t him.

“O’s freaking out, doing that weird not crying thing when she’s upset but not quite at the tears stage yet. She feels bad.” Raven sat down next to her. “She told me the gist.”

Clarke just nodded into the emptiness. “Yeah.”

“How did you and Bellamy even happen in the first place? I feel like you didn’t just fall into bed with him and you never really spoke about him until he came home unless O was saying how much she missed him.”

Clarke wrung her hands together. “I was sixteen and Octavia’s biology tutor. Bellamy was twenty and already O’s guardian—their mother died when he was eighteen and O was thirteen. It wasn’t a question of what he would do about it. He got custody and dropped out of community college to work three jobs but still found the time to be home for dinner and make sure she was taken care of. He seems laid back and go-with-the-flow, but he was strict with her,” she stopped to chuckle a little. “Dinner at six-thirty, homework done before then, no friends over past nine on school nights, ten on weekends. No boys allowed period.”

“I bet she hated that.”

“Despised it. They fought a lot, but it was more of her way of making sure he’d always be there. With every fight he never backed down, he never told her she was just a responsibility or ruining his life. He loves her more than anything, with everything in him, and no matter how much he annoyed me I couldn’t not admire that.”

Raven just nodded and let Clarke take her time.

“Octavia’s grades were important to Bellamy. I mean, she graduated with honors and got an academic scholarship so he did something right. Well, she was failing biology and my mom thought that tutoring would look good on my college applications. I was a year ahead of her so I already took the class. When he found out my name was Clarke he thought some boy was coming over to tutor her while he went to work and nearly shit a brick. O knew I wasn’t a guy, but wanted to see him suffer a little. When I showed up she laughed her ass off because he was so pissed she tricked him, but it wasn’t a fight-fight, you know? They argued, but it was a loving sibling thing and I envied that so much. My dad died that year—heart failure—and I felt so alone at home. My house was just sad and my mom was always working so I was alone, but their house was so full of life. Bell always had friends over, Octavia was always doing something crazy.” She smiled at the memories. “We just became best friends instantly.”

“So how did you and Bellamy start?”

“We flirted, mostly he did it to annoy O and it worked. At first I would blush and squeak, something he still reminds me of. But as we got closer I would flirt back and it would go pretty far. We would make these awkward plans in front of Octavia to make her feel uncomfortable, he would pretend to whisper in my ear with his arms around me and I would giggle and she’d be disgusted. Every time I saw him with a girl we would get into a fight, big ones. I would be screaming, he punched a wall once. It was a lot of hormones.”

“I bet. I mean, you guys are weird when you’re not sex-deprived.”

Clarke smiled. “On my eighteenth birthday they threw a party for me. It wasn’t huge, it was just the usual crew, some alcohol and shitty drinking games, but it was so much fun. It was one of the first times I went a little crazy. I was throwing up before midnight. Bellamy nursed me back to health. He held my hair back, made me drink water and brush my teeth, gave me Advil. I woke up around two am and we were lying in his bed. He was reading a book on Greek mythology because he’s a dork. When he realized I woke up he read some stories to me. I snuggled up to him and we ended up making out. It wasn’t my first kiss, but damn, that boy has got a talented mouth.”

“I believe that alright.”

“He stopped it a while later, after an hour or so of making out and heavy petting. He said he didn’t want to fuck up my relationship with O, that I was the best friend she ever had and he’d never forgive himself if he did something to ruin that.” Clarke bit her lip and wrapped her arms around herself. “Somehow we went back to normal after even though all I wanted was to kiss him again, be wrapped in his arms, in his bed. We still flirted and cuddled while watching history documentaries and fought when he had a girl around. It was a vicious circle.”

“What changed?”

“I don’t know. I went to prom with my friend Wells. It was easier that way; I didn’t have to worry about finding a date or the pressures of having sex. We went to an after party and he started flirting with this girl and I wasn’t having fun so I bailed. The party was across town but I found myself here just after midnight. I was still in my prom dress with my hair all did up. I just walked in and found Bell sitting on the couch waiting up for Octavia—who he miraculously let go to prom too with Atom, her boyfriend at the time that was in my grade. It sounds sappy as hell but we didn’t need words. We just starting kissing and ended up in his room and had sex.”

“You guys are a fucked up fairytale, Griffin. It’s kind of cute, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

She nodded. “I never told O that it happened on prom night. It felt too personal at the time and we haven’t really discussed it since. She still thinks of that night as the night Bellamy trusted her enough to come home by two am without checking. He ordered her to be home then or he’d chop Atom’s dick off so she did have incentive. He wasn’t waiting up because he was with me, but I don’t want to take that away from her.” Raven went quiet again, her own smile showing. “And it just continued from there. At first it was all the time, I literally could not stop. He taught me everything. It was gentle and well, informative. After a while he became rough and demanding. It was fun.”

“Until?”

“A few months later the guys threw a huge party and he went upstairs with another girl.”

“What did you do?”

Clarke smirked. “I went upstairs with another girl too.”

“Ew, here?”

“No, it wasn’t here. It was Miller’s house, I think. His parents were away or something. Word got back to Bellamy and he was… a little confused and very pissed. I’d never told him I was bi, I never really cared about the labels. If you like someone you like them. Surprisingly he never suggested a threesome or something and I really respect that because most guys do.”

“What happened after that?”

“We had rough angry sex. It was fucking great.”

“Man, you guys don’t talk about your problems, do you?”

Clarke chuckled despite herself. “Nope. But me and Lexa hit it off after a while. I was honest about the whole thing, how I was still sleeping with Bellamy. She made me choose. I could either just be friends with her or just be friends with Bellamy. I chose her because he wasn’t changing.”

“How did he take that?”

“Same as he does when I date anyone. He’s pissy and hates the person, but no different from his usual asshole-self. He never tries to get me to cheat or anything, but he’s very vocal about his dislike. He and Lexa fought all the time. It’s what caused us to break up less than a year later. I couldn’t love her the way she loved me. She blamed Bellamy and had every right to.”

“And then you started banging Bellamy again?”

“Vicious circle.”

“Damn.”

“Yeah. This is the first time I’m truly trying to stay away from him, to break the circle, and O just threw it in my face.” Clarke bit down on her lip again. “It’s so hard.”

“Maybe O doesn’t know what because you don’t let it show,” Raven offered. “You’re just acting like breaking it off was this easy decision when after talking it seems like it’s killing you inside. If you don’t tell people you’re hurting or show any signs they won’t know.”

“She said it out loud,” Clarke whispered in a sniffle. “That I l—“ she shook her head. “I can’t hear that. Not yet. I’m not there with this whole thing.”

“Where are you with this whole thing?”

“Denial, maybe,” she answered honestly.

Raven tossed an arm over her shoulders. “We’re here for you, Clarke. I may be unhelpful and shit with this stuff, but I am here. Octavia’s here too. She’d do anything to help you, even if it means throwing down with Big Blake.”

“I don’t want her to do that,” Clarke snapped, then withdrew from Raven’s hold. “You heard her; Bellamy is the most important person in the world to her. He raised her even when their mother was alive. He made her dinner and put her to bed, he gave her lunch money out of his own pocket. He sacrificed everything for her and I won’t let them fight over me. I won’t let her be mad at him for not lo— it’s not fair.”

“Your call, but I think Octavia can make decisions for herself.” Raven stood and looked down at Clarke disapprovingly. “You’re way too sober for having half a broken heart. We need to fix that.”

“I’m sorry I dated Finn,” Clarke spoke up before Raven could go on. “I don’t think I’ve ever really told you that. It’s shitty because I broke the two of you up when I wouldn’t have stayed with him. It never would have made it to long term because of…” she stood too. “I’m sorry.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Clarke. He was the one that cheated on me with you. You had no idea about me. If it wasn’t you it would have been someone else. At least with you it was an awesome girl I got to know and become friends with. Really, if anything, it just goes to show that his type is kick-ass girls and that just means we’re both kick-ass and he’s a jackass.” Only Raven would think like that.

“Still, I feel bad because maybe I was doing the same thing in a way. Before Bellamy left things between him and I were so intense that when he was gone I was a mess and just when I was putting myself together Finn made me laugh, you know? I used him even if I didn’t know it at the time and I ruined your relationship.”

“ _He_ ruined our relationship,” Raven corrected. “You were just the not-so-innocent bystander. It’s over and I’m better because of it. I would be thanking you if it didn’t hurt like hell at the time. Give me a few more months of recovery.”

“Or until you bang Wick a few times.”

Raven glared. “That is not going to happen.”

“It’s so going to happen. C’mon, I thought we were getting me drunk?”

Two hours and too many shots later Clarke was trying very hard to remember what she told Octavia she left the table to do (they’d made up and began to do shots together). It seemed so important at the time.

Suddenly arms wrapped around her from behind and she was pulled to a chest, a hard, warm chest that felt like a bed somehow. “You feeling okay, Princess?”

“Hm, my rebel king,” she sighed and completely relaxed against him to the point where she was almost dead weight. He chuckled into her hear. “Or something like that.”

Bellamy nuzzled her neck. “You have a ride home, right?”

“Does that mean I’m not allowed to sleep over?” she teased, her hands intertwining with his low on her hips.

She felt him smile against her skin. “You know you’re always welcome, Princess, but we both know it’s not what you want.”

It wasn’t making it any easier that Bellamy supported her so-called separation. Okay, it probably did make it easier, but it was a blow to her self-esteem. He was supposed to pine or something of the sort. “What about your girl?”

His lips pressed a chaste kiss to her neck before turning her around in his arms, keeping her pressed close to his chest. “You’re my girl, Clarke.”

“Damn your mouth, Bellamy Blake.”

He just smirked. “Your ride?”

“Lincoln. He is not drinking tonight so he can show you how right he is for your sister because he’s responsible or some shit.” Bellamy nodded and looked around. “Your sister is in love with him.”

“I know she is.”

“And you like him.”

“He’s alright.”

“He didn’t look at her boobs once.” She thought about that for a moment. “Well maybe a few times, but moreso at what’s underneath. He’s cheesy like that.”

Bellamy sighed. “Yeah, I guess.”

“You like him.” He was quiet, but didn’t deny it. “You should tell Octavia. It would mean so much to her. Make her really happy. You’re the most important person in her world, you know? She said so herself today.” He just nodded and rested his forehead on hers. “She is who she is because of you and she’s amazing. You shouldn’t be so down on yourself, you know. You’re a Corporal in the army for God sakes. That’s something to be proud of. And Octavia is the best.”

“Clarke, I don’t know what you’re—“

“You’d be a great father, you know,” she whispered.

Bellamy pulled away only slightly, but to her it felt like a mile. She said the wrong thing. She always said the wrong thing when he always said all the right things. It was so unfair.

“I want to go home.”

He just nodded. “I’ll find Lincoln.”

Clarke spent the night with her head in the toilet bowl while Octavia held her hair back. She realized she couldn’t blame O for wanting her and Bellamy together any more than she could blame herself for wanting to be with Bellamy.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that Octavia had said the words out loud, began to make them real, and that couldn’t be taken back.

-xoxo-3-xoxo-

There was banging on the front door of her apartment, but she didn’t acknowledge any of it.

“I know you’re in there, Princess! Open up!”

Clarke shook her head to herself, knees curled up to her chest while it heaved up and down. The movie had ended, but the anxiety attack did not.

“I will break this fucking door down,” Bellamy threatened. When she remained silent there was a clicking noise of the door unlocking and he walked through. “That was a lot less dramatic than I thought, but—“ he stopped when he saw her erratic breathing. “Dammit, Clarke.” Bellamy put the pizza down and wrapped her up in his arms on the couch.

“I—I’m fine. It’s just the movie.” She tucked her head underneath his chin as he ran a soothing hand up and down her back.

“So I take it I already missed _Armageddon_?” Clarke just sniffled into his shirt. “Did your mom at least call you today?”

“I woke up to a text. She has surgeries all day, couldn’t be avoided, said sorry, and would try to call later. I don’t think I care much though,” she answered softly. “Even when we do see each other it’s awkward because she’s moved on and doesn’t fall apart anymore. I mean, she’s engaged now, you know? And I don’t begrudge her for that, she deserves to be happy. Marcus is cool. Either way my dad’s dead, there is nothing she can to do change that.”

“She should still fucking try harder to be there for you,” Bellamy insisted, unwilling to let go of her, but Clarke welcomed his firm hold, the feeling of safety he produced. It always managed to calm her down.

“It’s been six years now. You’d think this would get easier.”

“Your dad’s dead, Clarke, you’re allowed to feel pain.”

“You don’t fall apart on the anniversary of your mom’s death.”

“I have one very compelling reason not to.”

She knew his reason was Octavia, it didn’t need to be confirmed. “She gave me one of her Octavia Official hand-made cards before she went to work this morning.”

He chuckled. “Yeah? Did it make you smile?”

“Always does.”

Clarke was fully aware of the story behind Octavia’s card-making and how Bellamy was the reason. O was a toddler and had just seen their mother scream at Bellamy for some reason or another and it’s the one time she says she saw him almost cry. So to make him feel better she made him a card, one he still has, and it made him smile. Hell, he still has every one of her hand-made cards.

Now it’s one of Octavia’s quirks. When you’re upset she makes you a card and Clarke had seen her make one—the girl puts a lot of time into them. It’s adorable and, like Bellamy, Clarke also kept all her Octavia Official’s as well.

“I brought you pizza, your favorite kind. I thought we could watch _Armageddon_ together and eat, but you beat me to it.”

This was his way of changing the subject from cards to anything but, Clarke knew, and let him do it, enjoying the feeling of being cuddled up to him. He never liked to talk about his childhood. She hadn’t seen him in a week which somehow felt longer than the eight months. It had something to do with Octavia saying the words she wasn’t ready to hear, she was sure.

When she didn’t say anything fast enough he went on, “I understand _Armageddon_ was your dad’s favorite movie, because personally I think it’s one of Bruce’s best movies and your dad had a fascination with space, but I think you watching it every year on the anniversary of his death is kind of kicking you while you’re down, you know? I mean, it’s like such a Dad movie and on today of all days?”

“I don’t know. It makes me feel close to him until the end when it just makes me miss the hell out of him. We used to watch it every Father’s Day.”

“You still could have waited for me. You know I would never leave you alone today, especially since Octavia is planning to spend the night with you. It’s like our thing. I take care of you during the day, she gets the night. It’s tradition.”

“I didn’t know if you’d come,” she admitted.

“You know, you’re one of the smartest people I’ve ever met Clarke, but you can be dumb sometimes. Of course I’d be here for you no matter what is going on. I’m not mad you’re avoiding me.”

“To be fair I’m not actively avoiding you. I have been busy this week. My professor loved my drawing and wants me to blow it up into a painting and showcase it in the summer gallery. That’s kind of a big deal. Plus I’ve been working.”

“That’s awesome, congrats. You should still never doubt whether I will be here for you or not.” His tone almost made her feel shame. He had a way of doing that. “You’re one of the most important people in my life, that isn’t going to change just because we aren’t sleeping together anymore. You’re never going to get rid of me.”

Clarke never doubted whether or not he’d be there. But part of her wanted him not to show up all together, maybe that would make it easier to start getting over him. The other part, easily the much bigger part, prayed he’d show up no matter what she really wanted. Bellamy always had a way of knowing what she wanted and needed better than she did.

“You’re such a great guy, Bell. You’ve done so much for yourself and Octavia.”

His hold tightened. “Thanks. It’s the only thing I’m good at—making sure O gets to do everything I never did and never goes without.”

“Bellamy.” She pulled away and looked into his eyes. “You are better at so much more than that. You’re an amazing friend, a good person, you’re fucking incredible in bed,” she listed off and he chuckled. “But you always undermine what you do. You’re in the army, you’ve served our country, you’re a Corporal—“

“Can we just not talk about this?” he questioned and rested his forehead on hers. “I hate when people thank me for serving our country. I didn’t do it because I’m some hero. I did it for one person—Octavia. I did it because the pay is good and I was behind on the mortgage and I like being busy. It was never my dream to join. I’m selfish.”

“Bell, you’re the least selfish person I know,” she pointed out. “And I know you have pride in what you do too, you just hate talking about it because you don’t think it’s a big deal when it’s a huge deal. What you do is amazing so just take the fucking compliment, okay?”

“Well, if that’s the way you give compliments…” he trailed off and laughed, making her laugh too.

“I’m serious, Bellamy. I think you have the biggest heart of anyone I know, except maybe O and you’re where she learned it from.”

He looked ahead at the black TV screen. “You know last week when you said I’d make a good father?”

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking—“

“No, I didn’t— you didn’t say anything wrong, Clarke. I wasn’t mad or anything. I pulled away because… sometimes I feel like I’ve been a father since I was five when my mom put O in my arms, saying I should name her because she would be my responsibility.”

“I never knew… I thought Octavia was just your suggestion because you’re obsessed with history, even when you were little.”

He let out a long sigh. “Our mom was never particularly maternal, she tried but it just wasn’t in her. I’ve never told O I named her because Mom didn’t really care, but she knows. We don’t talk about it because it doesn’t matter what our mom wanted, O and I wanted each other and that’s what matters. I don’t know what I would have done without her growing up. She’s been my saving grace. If I didn’t have her to look after I’d probably be in jail knowing my temper and shit. I’m only hard on her because I want better for her. She’s the first Blake to go to college, you know.”

“Yeah, I remember when she got her acceptance letter and scholarship offer for the culinary program. It was the happiest I’ve ever seen you. It was amazing, seeing how proud of her you were. I think she was more excited about that than the actual offer.”

“Watching out for her is all I’ve ever known, so when people say I’m a bigger person because of it or I’m such a great guy for only that reason… I don’t know, it kind of annoys me because it’s never felt like an obligation or a choice. She’s my sister, my blood, my only family, there was no choice. I would do anything for her.”

“I think they say it because not all brothers would do that. You’re special, Bell, in more ways than one.”

“How did we start talking about me? Today’s about you, Princess,” he changed the subject with an awkward cough. “What do you want to do? The movie’s over, but we can watch something else or you can pull a Titanic and draw me like one of your French girls.”

Clarke laughed a long, hearty laugh that made her feel lighter. “Maybe one day I will take you up on that, but I’m having a good time just talking, even if it was about things that make you feel uncomfortable. Actually, I really enjoy making you feel uncomfortable.”

“On any other day I’d make you feel uncomfortable right now, but I’m going to be a good person instead. Now, if you want to talk pick a different subject is all.”

She knew when not to push, but couldn’t help but think that if he saw himself the way she saw him their not-relationship could be more like a real relationship, but now wasn’t the time for that. Not today.

“Fine, how’s living with Wick and Miller? Is it everything you dreamed it would be now that you’re all settled in?” she questioned, repositioning herself to use his lap as a pillow.

He moved so an arm was actually beneath her head so it would be more comfortable and began to play with her hair with his free hand. “It’s been alright. We rotate chores and they both know how to fix shit too so we’re taking on projects to make the house more up-to-date. Surprisingly, Raven’s been a frequent flier.”

“No!” Clarke gasped. “That bitch! She never told me she’s doing Wick. I mean, I expected it would happen eventually, but that’s still so against girl code. You tell your friends when you’re getting laid, especially when it’s been a while.”

“Relax, Princess, they haven’t had sex. Wick says they talk and fight about whose better at fixing stuff. He’s already a goner.”

“She’s scared after the whole Finn thing. She’ll warm up to him. Wick’s a sweetheart with a loud mouth, that’s all.”

“I don’t know if they’ll implode or explode, but it will be fun to watch. I’m just happy she fixed the washer.”

Clarke nodded and nestled into his body heat. “Thanks for coming over today, Bell.”

“You know, you’re letting that pizza get cold.”

“It’ll be okay for a little bit longer. I’m really comfortable.”

Bellamy smiled down at her as she closed her eyes and knew he’d be stuck there for a while, but in all honesty he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind one bit.

-xo-

“O, don’t, come on,” Clarke heard when she began to wake, but was so comfortable she barely made any movement.

Bellamy was practically a furnace and she usually ran cold so he was the perfect bed. She adjusted a little and found she was curled up in his lap now, with his arms around her, and was nuzzled into his shoulder.

How the hell did that happen? How long had she been asleep?

“Calm down, big brother, it’s just a picture. But I bet it gets a million likes on Facebook,” Octavia insisted followed by a fit of giggles. “Almost everyone thinks you’re dating anyways. Until you go off and fuck some other girl like the man-whore you are,” she added after another minute or so of silence.

“O, don’t,” her furnace repeated and his chest rumbled against hers. Despite the conversation the feeling of it made her smile and snuggle further into him in hopes of falling back asleep.

“What? You’ve taken care of me my entire life, Bell, and then you get so upset when I try to do the same to you. Is it so bad I want you to be happy?”

“I’m fine, O. It’s my job to look after you, not the other way around.”

“I’m looked after, Bell. I’m twenty years old, I have two bitchin’ roommates, a kick-ass boyfriend, awesome friends, the best big brother in the entire world, and I’m acing my way through college. I’m great. It’s you I’m worried about. You and her.”

“Octavia, we’ve been over this.”

‘We’ve been over this’? Since when? Clarke began to wake up rather than fall asleep, but couldn’t bring herself to make it known she was awake.

What exactly had the Blake siblings gone over when it came to her?

“And let’s not go over it again while she’s asleep on me, okay?”

“Clarke? Please! She sleeps like the dead. I could have sex in the bed next to her while she’s passed out and she’d never know.”

“Octavia!” Bellamy just about bellowed. “Let’s not go there, yeah?”

“What? I didn’t say I’d do it! I’m just saying… ugh, you two are more alike than you know, it’s so friggin’ annoying. I will have you know, Bellamy Blake, you will never do better than Clarke Griffin and that is a fact.”

“I definitely know that, trust me. But she deserves so much more than me. After the things I’ve done… its good she’s finally moving on. I’m surprised it took this long for her to do it.”

“Bellamy… whatever you did over there, it was your job and—“

“It’s not that, O,” he cut her off.

“Is this about Mom again?”

His answer was silence and that was all any of them needed to hear.

Clarke was about to ‘wake up’ when Octavia went on, “Bell, it was an accident. The courts saw it that way because that’s what it was, an accident. They never would have let you get custody of me if they thought differently. What happened was not your fault.”

“I was the one driving, O, but it doesn’t matter. Everything I do is to try and make up for what I’ve done, but it will never be enough.” Clarke could practically feel Octavia’s annoyance. She knew they’d had this conversation many times over the years. “You know, she said I have a big heart earlier,” he spoke up after a moment.

“You do, Bell.”

“I don’t think I even have a whole heart and it’s not fair to give someone half a heart or hope they can fix it when you can’t fix yourself. I won’t do that to her. The most I could give her if she chose me is my heart and if I don’t even have a whole one to give I won’t do it. She deserves everything in the world and I couldn’t even give her something as minimal as my heart. It’s pathetic.”

“I think you’re wrong,” Octavia stated, her voice was powerful, even, sure, with no sign of doubt. “I just think you need to forgive yourself and let more people love you than just me.”

Bellamy was silent again.

“If you want forgiveness I can give that to you—there is nothing to even forgive. Did you know that sometimes I…”

“What?” Bellamy’s voice was deep, gruff, and raw. It made Clarke want to hold onto him tighter for comfort. Then she felt horrible herself for listening in their private conversation.

“If I had to pick who would walk out of the accident, I’d pick you every time. And I’ve had a lot of time to wonder what kind of person that makes me, but I’ve learned to live with that because if it means you’re in my life then that’s all that matters. You just need to learn to forgive yourself too because harboring this guilt is only holding you back from having a full life, the kind of life you want me to have. It’s holding you back from her and I think you’re only realizing that now because we’re not kids anymore and she finally wants more or nothing at all.”

Bellamy’s hold tightened on her, but again, he said nothing.

“Just think about it for me? Because I know if you told her you want her too, which you do, she’d wait a little longer while you figure yourself out or maybe you’d realize that you don’t have half a heart, just a bleeding one, and she definitely could fix that.”

Clarke felt a kiss on her temple. “When did you become a walking Hallmark card?”

“It’s Lincoln’s doing. He’s more a girl than me. I mean, he grew up surrounded by women; I was raised by you so it balances out. But the guy watches _The Bachelorette_ for fucks sake. I keep trying to tell him _American Ninja Warrior_ is where it’s at but he’s all ‘who isn’t getting a rose this week?’ I can’t stand it. He’s great during my period though, very attentive and even watches Lifetime with me. Although I think he watches it more often than not and likes to have an excuse to watch it _with_ me.”

“He’s a good guy, O. I like him.”

“What? You— oh my God!” she began to squeal and Clarke found her way to ‘wake up’.

“What? What’s going on?” she muttered sleepily and leaned away from Bellamy’s neck.

He grinned down at her. “I told O I like honest Abe. She’s kinda freaking out. Sorry to wake you.”

Clarke made a point to look over at his sister in surprise and confusion. “What?”

“I don’t even care that you called him by the wrong name. You admitted you like him. That makes me so happy, Bellamy!” Octavia exclaimed and threw herself on both her brother and Clarke in a hug.

Clarke had no idea what the conversation between brother and sister really meant for her and Bellamy, but knew the next few days were going to be spent analyzing it, especially if it meant a chance with him.


	2. Parts 3-6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks SO much for the kudos and comments. I was so worried how this would be received. You're all awesome!

-xoxo-4-xoxo-

“There you are working girl! Finally!” Octavia said over the loud music of the Dropship, their favorite bar in town.

Clarke smiled and hugged her best friend, then Lincoln too. “Sorry, I got held up at the shop.”

“So how does being an apprentice actually differ from what you were doing before? Congrats on that, by the way,” Lincoln wondered.

She smiled again. “Well, it’s more watching than answering phones anymore, a lot more reading and cleaning too. Anya is really cool, though, even funny when you get to know her. It’s going to be fun being a tattoo artist. I don’t think it will be my only job, but as an artist in general it’ll be good to have a skill that can bring in some money.”

“Once you’re done I am so getting your first tattoo. I want it to be a Clarke Griffin original too, so we need to get working on what I want to be on my body forever,” Octavia insisted.

“I’m going to be an apprentice for about a year, O, but whenever I’m ready for human subjects I’ll let you know.”

“Hey, I trust you now, but if you want to wait,” O said with a grin and shrug. “How’s the boobs going? You finished with them yet?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “I finished the painting, yes, but my professor wants me to do an exhibit where it’s presented in more than one form of art. I’m doing a painting, a charcoal drawing, maybe a big linoleum print. I think it would be really cool to do a black and white photo too, like the real life version, but that would be really weird since, you know, it’s my boobs and stuff. Drawing them is one thing. I’m working on it.”

“Oh, yeah, your photography class just started right? I saw the expensive looking camera box on the counter.”

“Yeah, surprisingly my mom agreed to help pay for it. You know her, once the pre-med stuff went south she will only pay for school now. Anything else is on me, but I can’t complain. I like my job and I’m working on an exhibit so,” she stopped with a wide smile and shrug.

“I’m real proud of you, Clarke. You’re doing great. Your dad would be proud of you too,” Octavia insisted. “I’m just glad you could make it out! With your summer art classes, new apprenticeship status so you’re working almost double the hours, and everything else you’re one hard girl to hang out with and I live with you.”

“Hardly. You’re too busy banging it out at Linky-poo’s place,” Clarke teased then chuckled when the man in question turned pink. “Sorry, Linc.”

“Really, babe, you have to get used to our dirty language. We’ve been together for months and you need to stop blushing if you want to keep what is left of your masculinity.”

“I have plenty of masculinity and I know you’re aware of that.”

“There ya go, good job,” O cooed which, if anything, only left the masculinity debate up in the air. “Anyways, you’ve missed so much! Jasper has turned into a love sick puppy around this girl named Maya and he invited her here tonight. They’re off dancing and he’s so cute with her! We just can’t find the heart to tell him he still has his chemistry goggles on from trying to blow something up at the shack earlier.”

Clarke laughed. Talking to Octavia sometimes was like the gossip information station. “At least she knows what she’s getting in to.”

“Yeah, and Monty has officially admitted to developing a crush on Miller who is the strong, stoic type that doesn’t show that he actually has feelings so he doesn’t know how to go about the whole thing. I even had to ask Bellamy for help, but he’s the worst wing man ever so we concluded that Monty just kinda hanging around would probably help his case. I don’t know. I still find it surprising that Miller’s human, let alone gay.”

She laughed again. “What about Raven and Wick? They go to pound town yet? You know she won’t tell me because I would do an I-told-you-so dance and she hates when I’m right. She hates when anyone is right unless it’s her.”

“I feel like they’ve fooled around, but not gone the whole nine yards yet. Finn called this week, it threw off her game otherwise they would be doing it by now. Fuckin’ asshole. Her and Wick are over at the pool tables where she is pretending she doesn’t know how to play just to take his money later.”

Clarke shrugged. “He’s the only family she knows. If she wants to let him back in once she’s over the relationship that’s up to her. He’s not a horrible person, just a shitty boyfriend.”

“Whatever, your hurt one of us, you get the hate from all three of us. Me, you, and Rae are like the Charlie’s Angels, only instead of all the ass-kicking we’re smartasses.”

Clarke shook her head. “So, um, is your brother around?” she asked, trying to seem casual.

It’d been almost two weeks since overhearing their conversation and she was left with only one conclusion: Bellamy wanted to be with her too. He was just scared and still harboring feelings from his mother’s death and probably more from whatever he did while overseas.

This was her chance to fight for him and she was going to take it because if she didn’t at least try she’d always wonder. And besides, Bellamy was worth fighting for, even if it meant backsliding on all the ground she’d covered trying to keep her distance.

Octavia gave her a knowing smile. “Yep. He’s at the pool tables too. Some army buddies came out with him. He just got here a little before you so he shouldn’t be drunk or anything.” Clarke nodded and slipped her hands in her pockets. “You should go say hi. He’ll be happy to see you, he’s noticed you’ve been busy too. He misses his princess.”

“Where the hell did that nickname come from?” Lincoln wondered and handed a beer over to Clarke.

“Thanks, and um, when we first met I played the perfect daughter role that my mother wanted me to be. I got straight A’s, was head of the student council, debate team, on the honor society, tutored his sister, etcetera, etcetera, and he thought I had this semi-charmed life, you know? So he just started calling me Princess and it stuck. It annoyed me at first, but I’ve gotten used to it.”

“It also helps that now he means it as a term of endearment and not criticism,” Octavia added. “But anyway, he’s over there,” she said with a nod of her head.

“No one ever taught you subtly, did they O?”

“You’re just realizing this?” her friend questioned. “And if you wanted me to at least act subtle, you probably should have worn something that we both know is a shirt my brother will not be able to look away from,” she insisted with a pointed look towards Clarke’s breasts.

She refused to blush as she looked down only to find her boobs practically looking right back. She wore a black top that resembled a corset but wasn’t and hugged her curves and breasts, and had a thin strap of black going over each mound before returning to the rest of the top and was made that way to bring eyes to the assets. She matched it with a tight black blazer with three-quarter length sleeves, a pair of dark pencil leg jeans and black pumps.

She also would not admit that the reason she was late was because she went home to change after work. (And redo her makeup and hair, which took forever for her to do when she  _wasn’t_  trying to pseudo-seduce her best friend’s brother, so when she was it took that much longer.)

“You’re the one who talked me into buying it!”

“I never said you didn’t look hot as hell.”

This time she smiled, but bit her lip to stop herself from saying anything stupid. “Thanks for the beer, I’m gonna…” she mumbled and walked away while trying not to stumble. She really needed to work on the whole walking in heels thing.

Clarke was approaching the other side of the bar and just had seen a tuft of Bellamy’s wild hair when a body slammed into her. “Hey! Damn girl, you look hot!” Jasper exclaimed excitedly, too excitedly. He’d been drinking a little, well more than a little.

“Aw, thanks buddy. You must be Maya, I’ve heard a lot about you,” she said with a smile towards the brunette behind him.

The girl turned pink and laughed awkwardly. Yeah, she definitely had it bad for Jasper too. “Yeah, Maya, this is Clarke. She’s like my mom, kinda of, in a weird way.”

“Your hot mom?” Maya questioned with raised eyebrows.

“Well, she’s not my real mom,” he said with a shrug before taking another swig of his beer. “Clarke and Bellamy have always looked out for us, like parents, but fun ones. Without them I probably would have blown off my hand or cut off a finger. I don’t know. Me and Monty do weird shit.”

Aw, he was blushing too! So she decided to take pity on him. “I don’t know if that’s all true, Jasper just gets caught up in the moment, you know. He’s a really passionate person. I’m lucky to know him.”

Maya smiled wide at him and linked their hands together. Jasper looked like he was on cloud nine. “Well, uh, we are on our way to the bar. Everyone else is that way besides O and Lincoln, but they’re probably just making kissy faces at each other somewhere.”

With another slew of awkward glances and giggles the pair was on their way and Clarke smiled after them. Jasper was already half in love, but at least Maya seemed to be too. If only it was that easy for her. After a long sigh she continued her way to the rest of her friends, to Bellamy.

Step one of the pseudo-seduce Bellamy Blake plan was to look hot and that part was done.  
Step two of the plan was to be touchy, like usual, so that was practically a no-brainer.  
Step three was to get him back into bed (which really, that’s not hard at all either).  
And finally step four is to get him to spill his guts after a few rounds of sex, not fucking (because there was a difference) and then, yeah.

Seem too easy? It did to her too, but it was all she could think of after almost two weeks which was a little sad. Clarke was supposed to be smart, but with this stuff? She was pretty bad. At least there was a plan, right? That was a good start.

But as she approached she noticed a slim, pretty, but not in your face kind of way, girl laughing next to Bellamy with her hand on his forearm. There were other people around too, but all Clarke saw was Bellamy laughing with the girl. And Bellamy didn’t laugh like that in public, he chuckled. Getting him to laugh was like a prize and she loved when she earned that prize.

That girl looked like she earned her prize too, and was proud of herself for doing it. Like she knew Bellamy as well as Clarke did, and that didn’t sit well with her. Feeling stupid for dressing up and making her hair somehow look messy and sexy and putting on fucking makeup Clarke turned around to leave.

“Hey, Princess!” his voice bellowed as she turned and suddenly he was next to her, grabbing onto her wrist. “Where you goin’?”

She opened her mouth but nothing came out. When she looked up at him she found that he was looking down at her, but a little further south than her eyes. Well  _that_  worked at least. “I, um, I was just— never mind. Hi.”

His eyes snapped back up to hers. “Hi. You’re late.”

“I got held up at the shop,” she lied and wrapped her arms around him. Well, it wasn’t a total lie, she did stay longer at the shop than intended or else she probably would have been closer to on time.

Per his usual Bellamy held her close and buried himself into her neck. When he got a little too close to the underside of her ear she pulled away.

“So, uh, what have I missed?”

But of course he knew better and moved hair away from her ear. “What did you do, Clarke?”

This was not the way she wanted him to find out about what she’d done at work earlier in the week. She hadn’t even told anyone yet, but it was only because she wanted him to be the first to know. “I—it was initiation or something. Anya said I couldn’t start to learn being a tattoo artist until I had an actual tattoo. It’s a rite of passage or something. So, yeah I just… did it.”

Behind her right ear was a simple old English style headpiece. “A crown though?”

“I couldn’t think of anything else and it just popped into my head. I hope you don’t mind?”

In response he bent down and kissed the skin next to the sensitive flesh. “I love it. Why didn’t you tell me? Or anyone? I know O would have mentioned it.”

“I wanted you to see it when I told you and I’ve been busy. I kind of stole the idea from you so it was only fair if you’re the first one to know, you know?”

He grinned and held onto her waist tighter despite the fact that they both had beers in their hands. “It’s sexy as hell, Princess.”

 “I’m glad you approve.”

“We both know you don’t need approval from anyone to do whatever the hell you want, but I do like it,” he replied, his voice low and gruff.

“I wanted you to know that no matter where we end up, you’re always going to be a huge part of my life. You and the rest of the crew, of course, you’ve all just shaped who I am. I wanted something to signify that and it—it fit.”

Bellamy grinned and rested his forehead on hers. “That’s what matters.”

Clarke was so tempted to just press her lips to his, partly because she missed the taste of him, partly to see what he would do. They’re never actually kissed in public. They’d hugged and flirted heavily, kissed each other’s neck, he’d even gotten her off in the corner of a dance club once (she was really drunk and horny, okay?), but never kissed on the mouth in front of other people. It was all very  _Pretty Woman_ in a way.

“You should wear heels more often, Princess, it actually puts you in my line of sight.”

“I wouldn’t get used to it, I just felt like going all out tonight. I half-hoped if I got all dolled up O wouldn’t complain about me not coming out for a week or two. If I’m lucky maybe even three.”

“I wouldn’t hold your breath. You know my sister, she has the energy of a toddler and could go out every night of the week and still be wide awake at nine am for work.”

“That bitch.” He chuckled and she felt the puff of air hit her face and because she’s a total weirdo she liked it. “Did you ever notice how we always end up like this?”

Bellamy sucked in a deep breath and pulled away. “Sorry, uh, habit.”

Clarke tugged on the waistband of his jeans until he was barely an inch away again. “Never said I didn’t like it, Blake.”

He raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth, but was cut off by Wick.

“Hey fuckrags, are we playing a game of pool or what? I just taught Raven here all she knows, so maybe we can get a real game going.”

“You know, for an engineer with degrees out the asshole and debt up to his eyeballs you sure have a great vocabulary,” Clarke commented and Bellamy laughed as he led her over to the group.

“It’s part of my charm,” he boasted while tossing an arm around Raven who shrugged it off. “Aw come on, babe, can you be a little nice?”

Raven glared and shoved a pool cue against his chest. “Shut up and rack ‘em up, okay?” She’s still testing him it seems. Stupid Finn really fucked her up.

Either way Clarke laughed at their antics and let Bell continue to pull her towards everyone.

“Clarke, I want you to meet some guys from my unit. These are Pascal, Nyko, Sterling, Echo, and you might remember Murphy from high school, but don’t be surprised if you don’t because he’s a reformed asshole so you probably ignored him most of the time. Hell, we still do.”

“Partially reformed,” Murphy corrected with a raised beer bottle and everyone laughed around them.

Clarke forced a smile while trying not to stare at Echo.

There was a fierceness to her, up close she was more of an obvious kind of pretty, but had a look that said she didn’t care about much and almost made you want her to like you. She had on the bare minimum of makeup like Clarke usually did, and it only made her feel more stupid because she dressed up for Bellamy and this woman seemed like she never tried to impress anyone ever. She just was who she was without a care to anyone else. And Bellamy laughed with her.

“Clarke?” Raven broke into her thoughts.

God, was she staring? “Uh, yeah?”

“Wanna do a game of doubles? Me and Wick versus you and Bellamy, loser buys next round plus shots.”

Clarke looked over at Bellamy who just shrugged while sipping on his own beer. “Sure, whatever. I half-suck at pool so if he’s willing to pay,” she ended with a shrug too before leaning against the wall next to her new partner. She watched as Raven smacked the back of Wick’s head for racking up the balls wrong and Bellamy’s army friends took up the other pool table. She was going to give her secret away about not knowing how to play pool if she wasn’t careful.

“She’s just a friend.” This time it was Bellamy who interrupted her thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Echo,” he insisted. “We’re all just close because of the tour. I spent eight months trusting them with my life, you know? We’ve been through hell and back together.”

“I wasn’t— you don’t, I mean, you don’t have anything to explain to me, Bell.”

“When you have a look like that on your face I do,” he corrected and stepped closer. “We’re just friends. I wasn’t lying when I said I hadn’t been with anyone else in eight months, that wasn’t just some line to get you into bed.”

“Yeah, because you don’t really need lines to do that, right?” she teased and he grinned while she finished off her beer then took his out of his hand and replaced it with her empty one. His eyebrows rose, but otherwise did nothing about it. By then he was used to her doing that. “You can get me there with just a look.”

“Used to. Not anymore,” he corrected then took a pool cue that was offered to him. “You wanna break?”

Clarke took it out of his hand with a frown and made her way to the end of the table. Everything she knew about pool was from Bellamy—he’d taught her long ago—but she still wasn’t all that great at it. She leaned over the table, crappily lined up her shot, and hoped for the best.

Well, they broke apart at least. That’s a good start.

“Hey, you okay?” Raven asked quietly when she backed away from the table and Wick began to make a big deal of how awesome his shot was going to be.

“Fine, why?”

“Well for starters, you were weirdly staring at that chick, you’re dressed like this, and for a girl who’s spent the last month staying away from Bellamy you’re doing some heavy flirting, or at least trying to.”

“That’s for starters?” Raven just gave her a hard look. “I have a plan, okay?”

“What, to end up on our couch with a pint of ice cream? This can’t end well, Clarke.”

She watched as Bellamy took his turn and bent over the table, admired his long arm reaching out over the pool cue, the way his shirt rose a little. Man, his hair was growing fast. It was curling around his ears and almost in his eyes. Did he take vitamins for his hair or something?

“Clarke.”

She looked back at Raven. “If I end up there at least I will know I did everything I could to try and make it work, otherwise I’m going to wonder for the rest of my life. Didn’t you stay with Finn for a few weeks after the whole thing went down?”

“Fine, but when you fall apart I at least get to punch him. I don’t care what you or O say.”

Clarke smiled at her friend and took the pool cue from Bellamy when he offered since it was now her turn. “Are we stripes or—“

“No one got anything in yet. Do you want another beer? I’m heading up now real quick,” Bellamy cut her off.

She looked at the bottle she’d stolen off of him and noticed it was nearing empty. “Uh, sure, if you don’t mind.”

With a nod he was on his way and she watched him go. “Okay,” she mumbled to herself and half-heartedly assessed the table in front of her.

The whole seduce Bellamy thing wasn’t going as well as she’d hoped. He was being so stand-offish and curt. She at least thought he’d enjoy the tattoo enough to want to touch it all the time which meant he’d be touching her and that was always good. And then the playing pool? Good idea, right, since she’d be bending over in her shirt and he’d be able to stare at her breasts or her butt? Apparently not.

She’d already made her shitty shot when he’d returned with beers and Octavia (and Lincoln). “We’re heading out so you all have fun now and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she announced with a hug towards Clarke. “And always remember to tip your waitresses or whoever is dancing in your lap,” she added on with wagging eyebrows and a look that was the opposite of subtle. “You remember that, big brother.”

“You know you’re still underage, right?”

“I’m drunk on life and love, I’ll have you know.”

Without any more off-hand comments (thank God) Octavia was on her way with Lincoln in tow, and Jasper and Maya too it seemed. That douche didn’t have the courtesy to say bye, but he seemed pretty hammered so, yeah. Monty had long disappeared with Miller—hopefully they were off having long, meaningful talks or getting it on. Either way, happy thoughts were sent.

“You missed me spectacularly suck while you were off being a gentlemen and buying me a drink,” Clarke informed him.

“Who says I was buying? Maybe I stole your wallet.”

She smiled as she swallowed. “Seeing as that is in my breast pocket I’d definitely notice you taking it.”

Bellamy’s response was to down half his beer and take the pool cue being offered by Wick.

“How’s that plan going?” Raven questioned with a knowing smirk.

“Fuck you.”

Raven didn’t say anything else, thankfully, but continued to wear that damn smirk on her lips like I-told-you-so was about to bust out from behind them. Fuck her twice.

Clarke is an admitted drink stealer, especially when already having been drinking. An hour later, two pool games, and zero more comments from Raven, Clarke was well on her way to stealing Wick’s beer (again) since hers had emptied moments ago.

“Dammit Griffin! You’re a fucking klepto!” he whined once he’d noticed and the neck of the bottle was already to her lips. But it was all in good fun since she was buying drinks (and shots) for whoever she stole from. So really she was buying her own drinks, kind of, in a way.

“I think you need to slow down, Princess,” Bellamy insisted as he came up behind her and gave Wick his beer back. Rude. “I know you’re the tank, but I’m not in the mood to carry you home.”

“Oh calm your tits, Blake, I know how to handle my alcohol,” she stated and hid a hiccup. “Although, I do it much better when I’ve eaten something throughout the day,” she added as an afterthought.

One of those signature Bellamy Blake disappointed looks overtook his face and it made her feel instant shame. “You haven’t eaten all day and you’re on your, like, eighth beer and had multiple shots? Fuck, Clarke.”

Eighth is a stretch, fifth maybe. “I ate! I brought lunch to work, so there.” She really needed to stop ending arguments with that, it didn’t help any.

“That was twelve hours ago, Clarke. C’mon, you know better than this.”

“Don’t you dare big brother me, Bellamy Blake. I am not your little sister and never will fit into that role so don’t put me there.”

“I’m not big brother-ing you, this is me caring about you. What, am I just annoying now that you know I’m not getting you off later?”

“Fuck you.” And with that Clarke shoved him on the chest and walked out of the bar. Well, she stumbled a little, but kept her head held high while weaving through people towards her car.

Just as she fought with her pocket to get her car keys out they were ripped from her hand. “You’re not driving anywhere, Princess.”

Of course Bellamy followed. “I’m not, I was going to sit in my locked car and call Octavia or maybe find Monty, but you have no right to tell me what I can and cannot do either!”

He rolled his eyes and shoved her keys in his pocket.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” she demanded and pushed on his chest again. He didn’t even have the courtesy to pretend to stumble, the fuckin’ brick wall.

“Me? You’re the one who is acting like we did before, like you haven’t been pushing me away for the past month, and then gets pissed when I’m trying to keep my distance. What the hell do you want from me, Clarke?”

“I want you to stop being such a dick! You were so excited when I got here, then ignored me the rest of the night, and now you’re acting like my brother or something—“

“I’m acting like your friend, because that is what we are, friends,” he cut her off. “What? Did you want me to watch as guys ogled you all night when you bent over the pool table wearing that? For fucks sake, you got a tattoo of— and we’re not— fuck!” he let out a sound of annoyance into the dark night and turned with his fists clenched.

“I didn’t want other guys ogle me, Bellamy, I wanted  _you_  to,” she told him softly without moving from her car.

A sarcastic laugh enveloped her ears. “Fuck Clarke, I can’t stop staring at you when you’re wearing an old t-shirt covered in paint stains, and you think I haven’t had half a boner all night when you’re dressed in that?”

“You’ve had half a boner?” she asked expectantly, a smile forming on her mouth.

“What do you want from me, Clarke? You stopped the sex, not me, okay? You did, and I’ve made sure not push for anything because honestly I’m surprised it took you four years to tell me to fuck off with it all. I’ve tried so hard to be  _good_. Now you’re upset when I’m not trying to get in your pants? You can’t have me both ways.”

“I’ve only wanted you one way, Bellamy, you know that.”

“And you know I can’t give you that.”

The words hung in the air like a bomb going off over a small city, leaving devastation in its wake as waves of pain crashed against her chest. “No. You won’t give it to me. There is a difference.”

 “You’re acting like this has been easy on me. It’s been killing me to let you go. Do you know how many times I’ve thought about what I would do differently had I known our last time would be the last time ever?”

“What would you do differently?”

He shook his head. “It doesn’t matter, because what you’re doing is good, Clarke, it is. You need to find someone who can give you everything I can’t, and—“

“Shut up, Bellamy,” she ordered and stepped closer. “Just shut up and tell me what would have you done differently that night.”

“I’d been wanting to see you all day, you know?” he muttered and kept his hands to himself, but looked like he wanted nothing more to reach out and just touch her to make sure she was actually there. “That day O picked me up from the air field. I didn’t even notice she was there until she had thrown herself at me. I was gone eight months, I joined the army for my sister, to pay the bills and keep us stable. Everything I’ve ever done is for her and when I came home I was looking for you. I didn’t even notice Octavia until she was already in my arms. How fucked up is that?”

“Bellamy…”

“Don’t you get what you to do to me? You eclipse everything in my life, Clarke, until all that matters is just you. We’ve finally made it to a place where,” he stopped and shook his head. “I would have done everything different. It wouldn’t have just been a series of quick fucks because I hadn’t had sex in eight months and all I could think of was you. If I had known it was the last time it would have been so different. I never would have stopped, not once the entire night. I would have gone down on you so long you’d think I developed gills.”

Clarke was so touched she couldn’t find it in her to giggle.

“I would have kissed every inch of you multiple times. You would have had so many orgasms we’d pass our old record and when you went to stand up your legs would have given out. I would have caught you and made an asshole comment, but you would have smiled because that’s just what we do. If I had my way our last time together would have left you thoroughly satisfied and smiling for days. It wouldn’t have been what it was. I would have fucking worshipped you.”

Unable to stop herself Clarke pressed her lips to his and he practically fell down into it. He cupped her cheeks, his fingers purposefully right below her tattoo, and used his tongue to expertly make her moan.

“No, Clarke. Fuck,” he growled, stumbling away.

“I want you to do everything you just said. I want—“

“You want too much from me and I’m trying— fuck,” he stopped in that sarcastic laugh of his. “Don’t make me the bad guy. Don’t do that to me.”

“I’m not, I just want— please,” she whispered. “Bellamy, please.”

“You finally got distance between us, why are you trying to fuck it up?”

“I’m trying to make something right. For me, at least. It makes sense to me.”

“Of course it does,” he mumbled and scrubbed a hand down his face. “Well, I won’t do it. You’ll regret it tomorrow. You’ve been drinking and you don’t really want this. I can have plenty of girls regret having sex with me, but I won’t let you be one of them.”

“I could never regret being with you, Bellamy. Never.”

“I didn’t notice my own sister, Clarke.” He sounded broken and it made her heart clench.

She stepped closer while linking their hands together. “You’re allowed to have things for yourself, Bell. You’re allowed to have me.”

“I shouldn’t be,” he murmured before grabbing her by the back of the neck and bringing her lips to his.

-xoxo-5-xoxo-

Bellamy was right about one thing—well he was right about a lot of things—Clarke woke up with a smile on her face.

Then she winced from the general soreness that emanated from her lower half, but it was a soreness that she welcomed. It felt good, thorough, the kind of sore that made you feel accomplished because you did something worthwhile to earn the pain. Bellamy certainly followed through with his promises. He actually might be part fish, not that she was complaining. She rolled over, expecting to find him still asleep in her bed, only to find a note instead.

Clarke shot up in bed and pawed at the pillow looking for the words she didn’t really want to read.

‘C,  
I told you that you’d regret it.  
& I couldn’t wait around to see it.  
—B’

The note crumbled in her hand as she made a fist around it and she hated the way tears gathered in her eyes. It blurred her vision and made the room swim.

Clarke curled up into a ball, the note still being clutched, and let herself cry.

She wasn’t a crier, she hadn’t really cried since her father’s funeral. After that crying over something less heartbreaking seemed wrong. She wasn’t the type that teared up during  _The Notebook_  or when Octavia’s thousand year old cat died (who didn’t see that coming?). Clarke didn’t even think about it when Bellamy left the first time, but the second time hurt like a bitch, like a knife being sliced through her intestines.

She hated him for making her cry.

How could he just wake up and leave after everything? Last night wasn’t sex and they both knew it. It was the first time Clarke had ever made love, ever. She thought for a moment that she was in love with Lexa, but compared to Bellamy? The feelings were mediocre. So in turn when she’d made love with Lexa it hadn’t felt nearly the same.

The way Bellamy buried himself inside her, the way his hands moved over her skin, the way he moaned her name against her neck. That wasn’t just sex. It couldn’t be. Clarke had enough sex with Bellamy (and others) to be able to tell the difference. He felt the change too, she knew it, yet he still left.

Right then Clarke knew she was done. If Bellamy could just make love to her like that then leave in the morning there was nothing that could keep him there.

Last night had been her way of begging without actually doing so. She’d gotten dressed up, did her makeup and hair, wore fucking high heels, and flirted, even gotten a little jealous. She’d walked outside and he’d followed and she’d said please when it had to deal with him being with her at least twice. That was it. And he’d walked away from it.

But part of the blame was hers. He’d asked her not to continue, pleaded a little so she’d stop, but she didn’t. She pushed it to happen.

Bellamy was right about a lot of things, but he was also wrong too because she still didn’t regret it. That was just another reason he should have stayed.

That was how Octavia found her a few minutes later. “Clarke, are you— dammit.”

If she hadn’t been caught up in feeling her heart break with every breath she may have laughed. Instead she held up the note without even attempting to wipe her face or stop the tears.

“’C, I told you…’ fucking bastard,” Octavia growled, eerily similar to the way her brother did it. “You don’t regret it.” Clarke nodded and her best friend crawled onto the bed to hold her.

She didn’t say anything and Clarke was grateful, but it wasn’t long until Raven came in. “O, I thought you were—“ she stopped and crossed her arms. “Where is he?”

“I give you permission to mangle his face later, but we kind of have a problem here right now,” Octavia insisted. “So if you don’t mind helping.”

Raven dropped her arms and got onto the bed with the other two to join in on the group hug. Clarke was touched by the sentiment because of the three of them Raven was the least nurturing, but she was trying. Just like she was trying to trust again with Wick after being burned so badly by Finn.

Who did Bellamy have to get over? Why couldn’t he just let her in or try like Raven was?

The thought made Clarke begin to hyperventilate, which was her norm for when upset, not crying—at least that part was over. Her chest began to heave as she struggled to breathe.

“What’s wrong with her?” Raven questioned, her tone wrapped in worry.

“This is what she does when normal people cry,” Octavia said in a rush. “You just have to hold her and tell her it’s all going to be okay. After a while she calms down. Usually I end up calling Bellamy, he’s better at it than me.”

Her words made Clarke take in deeper breaths and lose control all over again. As sick as it sounded she wished he was there. Then again if he was there would be no need to freak out.

“Nice job, O!”

“Sorry, it’s true! But we’ll be okay, we just have to hold her and tell her everything is alright, which it is. You’re going to be fine, Clarke, I promise.”

“How does this help? I feel like we’re smothering her.”

“Trust me, I know what we’re doing. I’ve been friends with Clarke forever and my cat used to get panicked during thunderstorms.”

“What the hell does Clarke have to do with your cat?”

“A panic attack is a panic attack, okay? My cat needed held and petted and so does Clarke. Wait—“

“Are you suggesting we pet our human friend?”

“Not pet, just rub her back. Will you fucking listen to me? Hold her and tell her everything is okay.”

“You’re going to be fine, Clarke, and if I have to pet you like a cat I will.”

“N—No, I’m okay,” she breathed with the tiniest smile. “Sorry.”

As her breathing returned to normal Raven pulled away, but O kept her hold firm. “Don’t say sorry, this isn’t your fault.”

Clarke rested her head on Octavia’s for a moment. “Thanks for not saying I-told-you-so,” she murmured.

“As long as I can hit him we’re good,” Raven insisted.

“Besides, this is my fault, technically,” Octavia spoke up as she lifted her head, forcing Clarke to do the same. “The other week when you fell asleep on Bellamy… I kind of had that conversation with him on purpose knowing there was an eighty-percent chance you were awake and heard it.”

“What?” both Raven and Clarke questioned.

“What? You both talk to me about the other and I can’t tell you guys because of how much you both mean to me. It’s your business so I try not to get in the middle,” she began. “So I thought if I brought it up and you were awake so you happened to hear what harm could it bring?”

“I think this harm is exactly what you didn’t think about, huh?” Raven asked sarcastically.

“Well I’m sorry, but I thought it was my loophole, okay? Bellamy cares about you, really cares about you, like so much, and I thought if you knew since he’s so good at hiding it that it could do some good. Do you know how hard it’s been to hear you both talk about the other and never be able to just yell at you because you’re both being stupid? Well, he’s stupid, you’re just generally confused half the time and— I am sorry, I thought it would help. I never thought he would do something like this.”

Clarke nodded repeatedly and stared at his note. “I—I don’t blame you, O. I guess I just can’t get through to him. This was my last shot, you know? I really tried and he knows what I want. He’s known for a long time what I want from him, but if he’s not going to try after this he never will.”

“But you should blame me. I blame me. This is my fault. I thought— it doesn’t matter what I thought. I should have stayed out of it like I always have.”

“Why don’t we just blame him?” Raven wondered aloud. “I mean, Clarke, you put your heart on the line and he walked away. This is his fault.”

“No, I— he has issues, and I’ve tried, but— fuck, this just sucks. I feel like I ruined it because I pushed for last night so now our friendship is probably ruined. He’s been one of the closest people in my life for years,” she broke off in a sniffle and felt her tears well again. “Dammit.”

“Don’t blame yourself,” Raven ordered in a no-nonsense tone.

“I even went and got this stupid tattoo. Well, I love the tattoo, but still.”

“You got a tattoo? What? Where?”

“Please say it’s not my brother’s initials on your ass or something.”

Clarke almost laughed and just pushed her hair back to show them.

“Aw, that’s actually cute.”

“I approve.”

She sniffled again and crinkled the note in her hands. “I should have just kept everything the way it was. I was backing away and it was a clean break. We were still friends after, best friends, now I don’t know if we can even try…”

“Hey, my brother wants you in his life, believe me.”

“But I don’t know if we can be like before. We made love last night and we’ve never done that before, this was different. And I’ve never woken up alone after having sex with him either. We were never like that; we were never ashamed of what we did or of each other. Now I feel like a dirty secret or a regret and that’s exactly what he said it would be. Only I don’t regret it, but I think he does and that hurts  _so_  much. The shitty part is that I get his damn note, because if he was so sure I was going to regret it I would not want to see that either.”

“Don’t give him excuses, Clarke. He left and you don’t regret it,” Raven insisted.

“But he’s not really the only bad guy here. I am partly to blame. It’s not all on him.”

“Hey, he made you cry. In my eyes he’s done for until I hit him, then maybe we can work something out,” she mumbled. “Maybe, I don’t know. I can hold a grudge.”

Clarke nodded and let out a shaky breath. “I, um, thanks for being here guys, but I think I could just use some time alone.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, O, I’m sure. I’m a big girl. I just need time to process and maybe take a bath and eat a lot. Thanks for being here though, really. I didn’t mean to fall apart like that.”

They reluctantly got off the bed. “We’ll be around if you need anything, alright? I don’t care if you need someone to change the channel because you lost the remote, call for me,” Octavia told her seriously.

“What do I have to do for you to do that for me?” Raven asked as they began to leave.

“Break a fuckin’ leg.”

“That is just not fair.”

Clarke smiled at their retreating backs before collapsing back on the bed. She was only able to lay there for a moment before it felt tainted and she quickly got off and looked around. The room was a mess from them bumping into practically everything on the way to the bed the night before. Her sheets smelled like him,  _she_  smelled like him, hell she was wearing the button up he’d had the previous night, but spent little time wearing because it had been too warm for it. Even that smelled like him.

She grabbed whatever she could find that was clean before taking off for the shower. Octavia was in the kitchen, but didn’t say anything as Clarke made a beeline for the bathroom.

It was a long one, all hot water and the steam helped with the impending headache. She practically used what was left of her body wash to scrub her entire body. Clarke didn’t even realize how long it really was until the water began to run cold. They lived in a small apartment building, but using all the hot water said a lot about shower times.

Afterwards she ignored how puffy her face looked and how prune-y her hands felt. She stuffed the washer full of her bed sheets and comforter and clothes from yesterday. When the room was Bellamy-free she thought she’d feel better, but the scene of the crime, so to speak, was still too fresh.

And it honestly didn’t help any her boob painting was in the corner of the room so his hands were practically staring at her. Plus she’d already began the charcoal rendition of it and his right hand was just about done in that one. Why did everything have to do with him?

In a huff Clarke pulled a duffel bag out of her closet and filled it with clothes, she didn’t even know if there were matching outfits or enough pairs of underwear, but it didn’t matter. She needed to get out of there.

Clarke left a note on her bed and hoped that like the last time she was out in the living area of the apartment that it was empty.

It was.

She didn’t feel like answering questions or talking about it anymore. She just wanted to get away.

-xo-

As Clarke knocked on the door of her destination she suddenly felt apprehensive.

She probably should have called, but on the drive over she decided to turn her phone off and go off the grid. And it would go against the spontaneity of leaving, wouldn’t it? But it went against her entire upbringing to be impolite like this—what would Abigail Griffin think? Never mind her, Nana Griffin would be very cross with her granddaughter for her actions today. She was probably turning over in her grave right now at the lack of manners.

Clarke went to turn away and call (because maybe that would be better even _after_ knocking?) when the door opened.

“Clarke! Oh my God, hi!”

Instantly she smiled, and the emotion felt foreign on her face. “Wells!”

Her childhood best friend gathered her in his arms and practically pulled her into the apartment where no less than three other people were staring at her. “What are you doing here?”

Fuck, he had people over!

Clarke immediately felt worse than before because she interrupted him doing stuff. Of course he had a life and here she was just dropping in during an emotional crisis wearing pajama pants with Darth Vader’s floating head on them and a horrible shirt Jasper had gotten her for Christmas one year that said ‘Chemists Have All the Solutions!’. She didn’t know which was more embarrassing.

“I—um, oh my God, Wells, I am so sorry for just coming here like this,” she whispered.

He waved it off. “Clarke, I could care less what you look like, you’re here,” he insisted and hugged her again.

In the midst of all the heartache she felt the muscle melt a little inside her. “I missed you so much,” she murmured into his chest.

With a final squeeze he let go. “I’ve missed you too.” It took until now for him to thoroughly look her up and down and assess the damage. “Let me guess, Bellamy?”

Clarke just looked down and pushed hair behind her ear in order to not say anything, which really said everything.

“Did you get a tattoo?”

“Ah, fuck,” she swore and looked up at him pleadingly.

He just turned around to his other friends. “Sorry guys, I’m gonna have to bail on our plans.”

“No!” she pulled on his hand. “You should go, I’ll be fine. I mean I know your fridge is stocked and—and I don’t want you to stop your life—“

“Clarke, shut up. I’m gonna stay here and hang out with you. How often does your best friend show up wearing a ridicule-worthy outfit in the middle of an emotional breakdown?”

“When you put it that way…”

His friends quickly filed out after awkward introductions and speedy goodbyes. When it was just the two of them she collapsed on the couch with a groan.

“Yeah, make yourself at home,” he joked and sat on her legs. She deserved it for dropping in the way she did.

“I am so sorry, Wells. I should have called, but I was just so— and I needed— I do miss you so much. My life’s a mess.”

He got her legs out from underneath him and wrapped his arms around her. “I miss you too, Clarkie,” he teased and she smiled at the horrible nickname from their childhood. “But never apologize for coming to see me, regardless the reason.”

“Stop being so sweet, Jaha, I’m feeling vulnerable today. I even cried earlier.”

“What happened?”

She pulled away and let out a long breath. “I— well, you see— why is this so hard? I want to be honest, but I don’t want you to hate him even though I kinda of hate him. Even though I don’t hate him at all actually, but I am beyond pissed at him. This is so messed up.”

“Clarke, Bellamy has never been my favorite guy, but it’s only because I always knew you were in love with him and this would happen.”

“What would happen?”

“He’d break your heart.”

“Break is a very strong word.”

“Crying is a very strong action for you.”

Clarke gave him the silent touché and sighed. “I’m finally done, for good.”

“Last time we talked you were done and here we are. What changed, Clarke?”

“I overheard him and Octavia talking about me. And don’t even chastise me for listening in, they were having this conversation while I was asleep on him and she knew I was half-awake. I didn’t know she knew I was awake until a few hours ago, so,” she stopped and tried her best not to sniffle. No more tears would be shed today, not over this. “He has real feelings for me too, deep feelings he’s been holding back. I thought if we… you know I could get him to talk about it then we could finally… but when I woke up this morning he was gone and I guess that was just the final straw. I can’t keep chasing, honestly it’s getting exhausting at this point.”

“Hate to burst your bubble, but Bellamy doesn’t just have strong feelings for you. He’s in love with you too.”

“What? I don’t—“

“He is. And you’re in love with him.”

“You’re not helping with the mess that is my life, Jaha.”

“I’m not done, Griffin,” he countered. “He’s in love with you, but he has issues and I’m not even going to pretend to try and understand him or his issues, but that’s what’s keeping him away. I don’t even live in Ark anymore and I know that. You guys were barely becoming less than hostile around each other before I moved and I could see it even then.”

“I was seventeen when you moved, Bellamy was twenty-one. We hadn’t even kissed or anything yet you knew we were in love? What Kool-Aid are you drinking?”

“I’m not stupid and I know my best friend, that’s how I knew. That and he hated me.”

“Again with the strong words, he doesn’t hate you.”

“Clarke, we mutually get along in group settings because we both love you, just in different ways. I love you as a best friend and member of my family; he’s tried to love you that way and ended up falling for you. I mean, we had that weird puberty thing when we were thirteen then we kissed and it was fucking weird so we got over it in like a day. He just happened to like when he kissed you when I found it incestual.”

Of course Wells would make her laugh. “One, that is not a word and two, we were fourteen so get your shit together, Mr. Future Politician. You need to start getting your facts straight or you’ll never make it in this shady world of ours. You’re supposed to the one of the good guys. Also, don’t make it sound so bad to kiss me. I am a great kisser I’ll have you know.”

“I’ll take your word for it, but you’re ignoring your problem here. We’re talking about Bellamy, remember?”

“Yeah, the giant hole in my chest is a constant reminder, thanks.”

“I thought you said him breaking your heart was a strong word.”

“There’s that politician in you, turning it back on me.”

“Clarke.”

She sat up and groaned. “What do you want? For me to say he hurt me? Okay, he hurt me, a lot, and this fucking sucks and all I want is to take the last twenty-four hours back because I feel like I lost one of my best friends because I fell in fucking love with him. It’s horrible.”

“I only want you to say it if it’s the truth. It’s okay to say you’re in pain and ask for help. You’re so independent Clarke, just like your mom and that is a compliment so don’t give me that look. But like her you try to work through your own problems when they are suffocating you rather than just rely on someone who loves you.”

“I came here, didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did. But you’ve also been playing this love game with Bellamy for years rather than rely on each other and just talk about everything. You guys have this weird fucked up connection and that’s great and all, but communication is needed too. You can’t just look at someone and know your fight is over because he smiles at you and calls you Princess. Sometimes you have to talk this shit out.”

“I’m really glad everyone is telling me how Bellamy feels after we fucked everything up. It’s real helpful.”

“Hey, you’re fully grown adults; you should at least  _try_  to handle this shit yourselves. Besides you hate when people get in your business. It’s why I stay away from the Bellamy stuff—you’re sensitive about it and we don’t like each other.”

“I am not sensitive!” Wells just stared at her. “I’m touchy, maybe. Do you really hate each other?”

“Not hate, I guess. We just keep our distance because we’re jealous of one another.”

“Why? You don’t want to date me. We aren’t like that at all. And I don’t want Bellamy to be like my brother. That’s just… wrong.”

“Because Bellamy understands you in ways I never will, and I understand you in different ways he never will.”

Clarke played with the bottom of her shirt. “What do I do, Wells? You’re so much better at this shit than me. You know me better than I know me, Bellamy does too. I’m in love with him but I— and after last night— I don’t think I can be around him, but I can’t lose him either.”

Wells stilled her hands. “I can’t tell you what to do, Clarkie. You’re a big girl now, but I will tell you everything is going to be okay. You’re strong and you can survive anything life throws at you. You have your mom’s brains and your dad’s heart, that’s definitely something to be reckoned with.”

“Do you think you know what my dad would say if I asked him for help? He was your godfather, you guys were close, and he was so wise and you are too. He always knew just what to say to make me feel better, what to do when I was upset or confused. My mom and I, we just fight all the time about med-school, how art is a hobby and— do you know what my dad would say?”

“Your dad was one of the best men I ever knew, Clarke. He was smart, kind and everything I wanted to be, even if my father wasn’t always happy about it. I didn’t have it in me to be an engineer because I’m not as smart as he was, but I have tried to be as good a man as he was, someone who’s honest and fights for what I believe in. It’s cruel that what made him who he was, what made him so special—his heart—is what gave out in the end. It’s not fair and never will be.”

“But what would he say Wells?”

“You know what he’d say, Clarke. He’d tell you to fight for what you want if you think it’s right, to never give up on something you believe in. He’d tell you that you’re strong and smart but,” he stopped and shook his head.

“But what?”

“But I don’t think he’d like seeing his daughter’s heartbroken either. I can’t tell you what to do, Clarke, but he wouldn’t either. He’d tell you to follow your heart and mind your head and do what is best for you. Honestly I don’t know if that means staying away from Bellamy or finally airing all the dirty laundry between you and dealing with it all. That’s up to you. Whatever you decide I’m going to support you just like he would.”

The tears came again and all she did was bury herself in her best friend’s chest. “Thank you.”

“I’m just the mouth piece, Clarkie, you already know everything I’m telling you. You just need to hear it outside of your head sometimes.”

“Can I sleep over? I packed a bag and drove almost three hours. Really the least you can do is put me up for a night.”

“Oh, it’s the least I can do, huh?” he laughed so she did too. “Of course you’re staying here, Clarke. And we’re going to watch all six _Star Wars_ in honor of those pants and don’t even get me started on the shirt. Jasper?”

She looked down and grinned. “Yeah. Pizza?”

-xo-

“Bellamy Robert Blake!”

A wave of shame rolled down his spine at the sound of his sister’s voice. “Not the fucking middle name, O, please.”

“What the fuck is the matter with you?” she demanded when she found him in the dining room, underneath the table fixing one of the legs.

He refused to change his position. “Is this because your boyfriend wasn’t invited to poker night?”

Her response was to kick him in the leg. Hard.

“Ow, fuck, O!” he questioned and sat up. “What?”

“Seriously? You’re going to play the asshole with me? You can play that twisted fucking game with Monty, Jasper and whatever fucking God you believe in, but I know you like the back of my fucking hand so do not even try to do that with me. You know why I’m here.”

Bellamy played with the hammer in his hands. “How is she?”

“She’s gone.”

At that he stood straight up and dropped the hammer, wincing when it landed on his own foot. “Fuck, where is she?” Octavia slapped a note against his chest. Again, hard.

‘C,  
I told you that you’d regret it.  
& I couldn’t wait around to see it.  
—B’

“Turn it over, fuckwad.”

On the other side of his note was Clarke’s half loop-half print handwriting.

‘I had to get away.  
I’ll be back Monday.  
Don’t worry about me.  
I’m sorry.  
—C’

“This is all your fault!”

The note crinkled in his hands. “Stay out of it, O.” He pushed passed her and went for the kitchen.

“No, I will not fucking stay out of it. I’ve stayed out of it for four fucking years then this morning I had to watch my best friend cry her eyes out and have a fucking panic attack because of you.”

Bellamy stopped pretending to rummage through the fridge. “Is she okay?”

“Is she— no!” Octavia exclaimed, not caring who was in the house or who heard what they were talking about. “You broke her fucking heart because she didn’t regret it at all. She woke up and she wanted you, but you were a coward that left a note on her pillow.”

“O, stay out of it!” he just about shouted and slammed the fridge shut.

“No, you dragged me into it when you started fucking my best friend regularly. I told you that if you fucked this up—“

“Well you should have known!” he cut her off. “I don’t do this shit. I’m not that guy, I will never be that guy. I’ve told her that, I’ve told you.”

“No, you’ve been lying through your teeth for years because we all know you’re in love with Clarke except maybe Clarke because she’s oblivious. You’ve been doing everything you can to push her away, or should I say run away.”

“Octavia—“

“I never thought you’d do that, Bell. Be like our mother and create problems to avoid what is really going on.”

“Octavia, don’t you fucking dare.”

Just then Miller came into the kitchen, fully aware of the conversation, his face covered in worry. “Guys—“

“Or should I say you’re acting like our father, huh?”

Bellamy’s hand grabbed whatever was closest and that just happened to be the toaster. He ripped it out of the wall and threw it across the room, but Octavia didn’t budge or even flinch.

“Guys, you both need to calm the fuck down.”

“Don’t you fucking dare compare me to him!” Bellamy roared, his chest heaving. Wick made his way into the kitchen, Raven on his heels, but neither Blake looked at them. “I take care of my family! I have always taken care of  _you_.”

“No, you’re using me as a crutch Bellamy, and I won’t let you anymore. It’s just like Mom, isn’t it? Because of us she couldn’t follow her dreams. Because of us she couldn’t keep our dad around. Because of us her life sucked. We were her crutch and look what happened to her!”

“Bellamy, we should go outside.”

“Stay the fuck out of his, Miller,” he snapped before looking back to his sister. “I know exactly what happened to her, Octavia,” Bellamy stated, his voice low and menacing. “I was in the accident that killed her, I was driving. I had to watch our mother fly through the fucking windshield and bleed out on the ground in front of me. I had to listen to her cry and gasp for breath while her lungs were filling up with blood because a fucking tree branch was sticking out of her chest. So don’t you tell me what happened to our mother when I’m the one that had to watch her die.”

Octavia blinked back tears but held her ground. “She used us as an excuse to hate life because that was easier than taking responsibilities for her own actions. She resented us because we kept her from doing what she really wanted and I won’t let that happen with me and you, Bell, I can’t. You’re all I have left. Stop using me as your excuse. Please.”

“You’re not an excuse, I made a promise—“

“Fuck your promises!” Octavia exploded. “Look at me!” Bellamy blinked down at her as she cupped his face in her hands. “Really look at me, Bellamy. I’m grown up, okay? You did the best you could and you did a fucking amazing job. But it’s time to stop being my father and just be my big brother. I’m sorry but I don’t need you for every little thing anymore. I’m telling you it’s okay to put me second, okay? Please don’t fuck this up because you love her, you’re so fucking in love with her…”

Bellamy grabbed onto her hands on either side of his face. Neither noticed how everyone quietly left the kitchen. “But I’ve already fucked it up, O. That’s what I do best.”

“No, Bellamy, what you do best is fix things, you make them right.  And you can make this right. She loves you too. You just have to stop using me as a reason why you can’t give yourself to her. She knows how much we mean to each other, she’d never get in the middle of that, you can let her in. She’d never make you choose.”

He squeezed his eyes shut and leaned into his sister’s hands. “I  _left_ , O. I left  _her_.”

“So go back to her.”

“I don’t know if I— for so long its just been you and me—“

“It will always be you and me, always,” Octavia cut him off. “But now it can be you and me and Clarke and hopefully Lincoln and— we have a family, Bell. We have one big very fucked up family complete with two guys that make their own moonshine and set shit on fire, a girl who can fix just about anything with a hand tied behind her back, an engineer who can make a robot with the contents of our junk drawer, and a man who doesn’t say anything half the time but loves us enough to get in the middle of one of our horrendous fights even if it means one of us taking his head off.”

Bellamy took her hands from his face and held them between their chests. “And a guy who completely worships my sister and I don’t think I could pick anyone better for her.”

Octavia smiled so wide it felt like her face was going to break. “And a girl who got a tattoo of a crown behind her ear because my brother calls her princess, not because she’s stuck up, but because he puts her high on a pedestal as something he thinks he isn’t worthy of, but he is.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I’m sorry,” Octavia said forcefully. “Because you’re not our mother or father, but you were my mom and dad for a long time. I am so thankful for that because all the good in me it isn’t from them, that is all you.”

“I don’t know if I know how to put you second, O because I will always want to take care of you whether Lincoln is around or not.”

“For now how about we make it a tie?”

Bellamy smiled and nodded. “Deal.”

-xoxo-6-xoxo

Clarke fell back against the door as it closed and let out a long breath.

Anya was pissed she called off and went on a ten minute rant about taking her apprenticeship seriously, her mother had left an equally long voicemail on her phone about having brunch next week to talk about her future, and when she’d turned her phone on to find no less than twenty missed calls and over forty text messages. Not to mention Wells wasn’t kidding about the Star Wars marathon (“I never kid about  _Star Wars_ , Clarke!”) so they had watched all six in a row meaning she’d gotten no sleep.

Plus she still had many different forms of art that she had to create her boobs in.

The last thing she needed was to open her eyes to find Bellamy Blake passed out on her couch. He was in a pair of what looked like dirty jeans, a gray t-shirt, and he definitely had over a day’s worth of growth on his face.

Fuck times two (because once just wasn’t enough).

Clarke dropped her keys on the kitchen table which caused the soldier to pop up from his sleep, literally, into a sitting position. She threw her duffel bag into her bedroom and stared at him with a blank expression. Well, she was not going to start whatever kind of conversation he wanted to have.

Was it going to be an ‘I’m sorry but this is how it ends’ or ‘Octavia is making me do this’ or— she didn’t even have the heart to think about another scenario.

He rubbed his eyes as he stood shakily on his feet after a long moment. “Clarke.”

Clarke just crossed her arms and stared at him. The time away had done her good. She was still in love with him, of course, but she was also pissed as hell. The shock had worn off. There was a saying about love and hate and a fine line, wasn’t there? She didn’t hate him, but she hated what he did to her.

Bellamy looked tired as hell, like he’d had a shittier weekend than her somehow and she wanted to rub it in his face but wouldn’t. It wasn’t in her to be mean for no reason— not that she didn’t have a reason. Fuck, she was so bad at pseudo-relationships.

“Okay, you’re not going to say anything so I guess I’ll start. I’m sorry—“

“You’re sorry?”

“Now you want to talk?”

“Are you seriously going to start a fight with me?”

“I am sorry, Clarke! I am so sorry.”

“Good! You should be. You should be sorry and hurting and in pain and—“ she stopped with a stomp of her foot. “Fuck, why am I not good at this?” She didn’t really want to cause him pain. That wasn’t the type of person she was, the kind of daughter her father raised.

He smirked a little and she wanted to slap the look off of his face. “I am sorry, Clarke. Please believe me.”

Clarke bit her lip under his gaze. “No! No, you don’t get to look into my eyes and say sorry to make everything okay. You can’t just call me Princess and smile and it’s all over. You hurt me, Bellamy. Do you know what it was like to wake up alone after we— after we—“

“Made love?” he cut in and she stepped away, surprised he admitted it. “No, I don’t, because I was a pussy and ran away because I was scared. I’m not going to just look at you and smile so you’re weak in the knees and think everything is okay because it’s not. What I did was wrong and fucked up and I need you to realize how fucking sorry I am.”

“I cried, Bellamy. Cried. You know I don’t do that shit. I’m not that girl. You turned me into that girl and—“  

“Fuck, Clarke, look I have a lot to say and I need you to just listen and not interrupt because then it will fuck up the monologue I’ve been working on all night.”

“Your monologue? This isn’t a goddamn Greek tragedy. Are you serious right now?”

“Will you just fucking listen?” he questioned and she remained quiet. “Alright. Fuck, how do I start this?” He began to pace in front of her. “I’m not going to blame my actions on my shitty childhood or how bad I had it, but there are things you need to know about me. Things I did or saw or maybe I just need to say them so you can know all of me. So you can know why I’ve been holding back or doing the things I do. Maybe you can make sense of it because, fuck, I don’t know if I can. I just know you need to know before… I don’t know.”

Clarke softened and nodded a little.

“My mom had me when she was eighteen. She was in love with an asshole who didn’t give a fuck about her. He went off to college, came home for breaks and summers and toyed with her heart. He’d tell her how much he loved her and needed her, then would go back to school and not talk to her until he came back home to do it all over again. When she got pregnant with me she thought it would fix everything. I was a surprise but she thought it would finally make him commit. Instead, he called her a slut and a whore and denied that I was his. I know all of this because my mom was an alcoholic who liked to talk a lot when she had too much and she always had too much. She used to get falling down drunk and tell me what maybe if I hadn’t been born then he might have stuck around. Maybe if my grandfather hadn’t made her have me she could have had her happily ever after.”

“Bell—“

“Wait until I’m done please. I have a lot more to say.”

Clarke nodded and stepped back because he looked like he was going to jump out of his skin and her touching him was not going to help. But he never talked about his mom or childhood. She’d asked Octavia about her dad once, if her and Bellamy even had the same one, and even O was hush-hush about it. All she did know was that their mom drank a lot, literally that was it.

“I watched my dad walk float in and out of our lives, but he still denied that I was his. I never called him Dad, he barely acknowledged me. He’d get drunk with my mom once in a whole, fuck her, and then leave. When I was four it happened for the last time, when she told him she was pregnant again. Nine months later she put a bundle in my arms, said that this little squirming thing was my sister, my responsibility, and asked me to name her. My grandfather made my mom have her too, but he couldn’t make her raise us. I decided right then that I would never let her hurt my baby sister like she did me. I wouldn’t let her feel the pain of being someone’s biggest mistake. My grandfather was around, but he was old, so all he really did was provide for us until he died.  _I_  put O to sleep, stopped her from crying, changed her diapers and it was my hand she let go of when she took her first steps. Her first word wasn’t ‘mama’ or ‘dada’ or what-the-fuck-ever, it was ‘Belly’ for Bellamy. And, fuck, I cried like a baby that day. I cried and held her and told myself nothing would ever be more important than her because she was my reason for living. Not my drunk mother that I loved so much despite her misgivings, not my waste of a father who cheated on his wife with my mother and had two kids he refuses to admit are his. And I know exactly what his name is, where he lives, and that I have another little sister and two little brothers that I will never meet.”

Clarke blinked back tears but refused to let them fall. She was going to listen to everything he had to say without interrupting, but fuck, this was heavy shit.

“My mom wasn’t maternal by any means and when her dad died when I was ten nothing really changed, except maybe she worked more. She tried though, she had good days and bad days. There were days I would come home to find her baking cookies with O and there were days O would hide in my room because our mom had another new boyfriend she was getting drunk with when we were getting out of school. I did my best to shield her from it all—I made her dinner, put her to bed, made sure her homework was done and read her stories about Greek and Roman mythology. I made sure she was taken care of. Octavia was my priority.”

Bellamy took in a deep breath and looked at her for a long moment without saying anything. Clarke nodded him along, letting him know she was still listening. He seemed to gain confidence in that.

“There was this boyfriend she had for about a year before she died. He was huge and creepy and I hated the way he stared at Octavia. She was twelve. How fucked up is that?” Bellamy began to pace again. “I noticed my mom getting thinner, moodier and I asked her what she was on. I’m not stupid, but she said it was nothing. Then I caught her shooting up in the bathroom. Just what a son wants to see, right? His mother doing heroin when he goes to take a piss in the middle of the night. We got into this huge fight, thank God Octavia was sleeping over at a friend’s house. Her boyfriend woke up and beat the shit out of me. I just turned eighteen and he said he had been waiting for my birthday to come so he could teach me some manners.”

“Bellamy—“  

“Octavia doesn’t know it was him. She thinks it was an asshole at school if she even really remembers it all. I’ve had a lot of black eyes and swollen lips. After her boyfriend laid his hands on me my mom got in touch with her motherly instincts and didn’t have him over as much anymore. I didn’t do anything because he was out of the house, he wasn’t near Octavia, and that was my main concern. Then I got a call one night, it was my mom crying, saying he’d hit her and wanted me to come get her. I called Miller, asked him to stay at the house with O. She was sleeping and thirteen, but still, you know me, I worry. She was so happy when I came for her.” 

A smile broke out over his face and Clarke wanted to capture it, take a picture of it, paint it, draw it, never forget it. It was beautiful.

“She threw herself in my arms crying, said what a good son I was. I knew she was high or drunk, just generally fucked up, but I was happy that I made her happy. To hear her say all those things, even if she was high, it meant something to me. I asked her what he did to her but she wouldn’t tell me. She said she was going to be better, get clean, be a mother,” he trailed off in a small laugh. “Five minutes later her boyfriend called. He said he was sorry, that he loved her and wanted her to come back. She asked me to turn around but I refused. I asked her who was more important, him or her kids. It was right then that I realized it wasn’t really about him at all. It was about the drugs and he gave them to her. I got so mad and…”

“Bellamy, it’s okay, breathe,” she whispered when he stopped. He looked like he was about to pull all his hair out or break something.

“She pulled on the steering wheel, begging me to turn around, but I wouldn’t. I kept driving. I should have pulled over. I should have taken the keys out of the ignition and threw them into the woods. I just kept driving. Why the fuck did I keep driving?”

“Bell—“

“She took the wheel from me and jerked it hard. I couldn’t get control back. We drove head on into a tree. I was wearing my seatbelt, she wasn’t. She went right through the windshield and—and—“ he coughed and blinked ferociously. “It took a minute but I got out of the truck and I found her with a— there was a tree branch sticking out of her chest and she looked at me like I betrayed her. I got on my knees and said I was sorry. I said it over and over and over again. I held her hand and watched the blood—“

This time Clarke stepped forward and grabbed onto his hand. He squeezed her fingers tight, but she said nothing.

“I promised her I would take care of Octavia, that nothing would come between that. I told her I would make sure we were okay, that I would do anything and everything to keep us afloat. She never said anything. I don’t know if that was even what she wanted to hear. She just held my hand tight and nodded a little before… the police came less than five minutes later. They had to rip me away from my dead mother’s body.”

Clarke wrapped her arms around his shoulders and he leaned down into her hold, like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He had never told her any of this. She knew their childhood was sketchy, she knew their mother had problems, she knew the gist of the accident, but no real details about many of it. Neither Blake wanted to talk about it and when they did it was the good times.

The time their mother sent O on a scavenger hunt through the house complete with a map and hidden clues. The time Bellamy surprised Octavia with the Halloween costume he’d spent over two weeks sewing (their mother taught him at a young age) when she was eight and how she didn’t take it off for another two weeks. The time when Bellamy found a cat outside and made the mistake of mentioning it to O and she talked him into letting her keep it. All the times Octavia made Bellamy dinner when she was younger and even if it was horrible he still cleared his plate.

They weren’t keen to share what they didn’t have because what they did have was enough for them. They had each other and Clarke was beginning to fully realize just how precious that was to the siblings.

“My mother died hearing that I would take care of Octavia and I don’t know if she even cared, but I promised. I promised I would always put her first. When I found someone that could change that I got scared. I got so fucking scared that I pushed you away, but I could never push you far enough away because I’m selfish and never wanted to let you go. Until the other night when I left you. I am so fucking sorry, Clarke.”

For probably the millionth time in her life Clarke wished she was taller, then it would be easier to comfort Bellamy. She ran a hand through his hair and continued to hold him tight. “It’s okay, Bell, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I fucked everything up. I never should have left you. I’m sorry I left. I’m sorry you cried. I’m sorry that it took Octavia screaming at me to do all this.”

Clarke pulled away a little. “She shouldn’t have done that. I don’t want to get in the middle of you two. I’m not worth it.”

Bellamy carded a hand through her hair and his thumb grazed the skin below her tattoo. “Yes, you are. Don’t worry, it was probably one of our worst fights—“

“That is supposed to make me not worry?”

“And our quickest recovery time. It’s already all good between us.”

“Good.”

“Look, Clarke, I don’t do this shit. I don’t talk about myself or my past because I don’t want pity or praise. I don’t want people to know what I’ve done or what I’ve been through because I don’t think any of it is all that noteworthy. I raised my sister, so what? Millions of others have shitty parents and do their best too. I also was driving the car in the accident that killed my mother and I carry that with me everywhere I go.”

“Bellamy, I never knew what really happened that night, but it wasn’t your fault. It was a horrible situation where you did what you could—“

“It made me more protective of O, more invested. Over the years I’ve probably gotten too invested. She was right when she yelled at me, I have been using her as an excuse not to have a life. But she wasn’t the reason I never got a girlfriend, you were, so she was wrong too.”

Clarke’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I didn’t know how to split myself between being in love with someone and loving Octavia. I never got a girlfriend because I always knew it would be pointless after being with you.”

“Bellamy, what are you saying? You’ve never—“

He stopped and rested his forehead on hers like he always did when they were close. “I lost the first woman I loved before I ever really had her. I know my mom loved me, that she loved Octavia, but losing her broke a part of me. I felt—I still feel like I’ve failed her because of how she died. I couldn’t protect her. I should have tried harder, done more, anything. So I did it tenfold with Octavia and it’s caused problems between us, but she’s always been safe. Now I’m losing her too.”

“You’re not losing your sister, Bellamy. You never will.”

“It’s okay, Clarke,” he assured her and smiled softly. “Our world is expanding, it’s not just the two of us anymore. She has Lincoln now and he’s stupid in love with her, in the best way. We told each other its okay for the other to be second now. I don’t know if I know how to do that, but I know you’re the only person that could ever be number one if she’s not.”

“Yeah?” she asked with tears in her eyes, but the good kind of tears.

Bellamy smiled a little. “Yeah. For the longest time I didn’t know if I had a whole heart. I thought after my mom died, after what I did, that most of it was just rotted through. But I realized while I was waiting here for you that I do have one. I needed to finally forgive myself for all that I’ve done because I was just a kid. I did my best even if it wasn’t enough. After that I realized I’ve always had a heart, I just gave it to you a long time ago without even knowing it.”

“Shit, Bell, when you’re on you’re on.”

“I won’t lose the third woman I’ve ever loved because I’m being stupid. That and I don’t think O would ever forgive me.”

Clarke licked her lips and rested her hands on his that were along her jawline. “You’re not going to lose me, not as long as you finally want me.”

“I’ve always wanted you. I just wouldn’t allow myself to have you.”

“And now?”

“I won’t let anything stop me from being with you. Unless you don’t want…”

“Shut up, Bellamy.”

He smiled softly at her. “I am sorry, Clarke, about everything.”

“I understand why you did what you did. And I can forgive it easily as long as you tell me that in the morning…” she trailed off, seeing if he was going to continue to play their twisted game or finally finish it.

“You did call me your rebel king, right? Rebel kings definitely get the girl in the end, especially when it’s a princess.”

“This is that kind of story?”

“It’s been that kind of story all along.”

Clarke’s smile was short-lived because Bellamy pressed his lips to hers. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and when he picked her up she broke away in a laugh.

“I love you.”

She kissed him hard on the lips. “I love you too.”

“I know this is the part in rom-coms where you have sex, but can we go to sleep? I’ve been waiting up here for the last day for you and your couch fucking sucks.”

“Thank God, I was half-hoping you didn’t want to have sex. I’m exhausted. Wells made me watch all the  _Star Wars_. We didn’t sleep at all.”

Bellamy began walking them towards her room. “He made you, huh?”

They both dropped on her bed and Clarke silently thanked Octavia for putting her sheets and bed linen back on. “You know you like the new ones, if not because the CGI is awesome, because Natalie Portman is hot as hell.”

“Does having a bi girlfriend mean we can check out girls together? I mean, if I happen to notice them.”

She settled in under the covers. “You can notice them in the street when I notice them too. In movies and shit you’re free to say whatever.”

“As long as we set the ground rules now,” he sighed and pulled her back against his chest.

“Any ground rules you wanna set?”

“Just don’t give up on me.”

Clarke looked back at him and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “Never.” Their lips moved together for a moment before she pulled away and smiled. “I did not think this was going to happen today, if it ever was.”

“Octavia’s been telling me I’m stupid for years. I had to listen sooner or later.”

Clarke moved onto her back and bumped noses with Bellamy, making him kiss her quickly and sweetly. “Does she know everything you told me? I mean, about your other little sister and—“

“No,” he cut her off. “She doesn’t want to know anything about our sperm donor, I don’t think she even knows his name—it’s not on our birth certificates or anything. And I don’t want to know his kids either. I’m not his son so I’m not their brother.”

“I won’t say anything.”

“I know you won’t,” he murmured and slipped a hand under her shirt. “I trust you. You probably know more about me than anyone now. But that’s what boyfriends and girlfriends do, right? Share and shit.”

“Well I’ve only been in, like, two serious relationships and they crashed and burned, but yeah I think so. Good thing we already know everything about each other.”

Bellamy nodded and buried his face into her shoulder.

Clarke brought a hand up to play with his hair. “But babe, there is still one thing we have to do before sleeping.”

He lifted his head back up and had one eye cracked open. “Now? I thought you said the sex could wait. I mean, we can do it, but I’m already exhausted so I don’t know how long I’ll last. But hey, I guess that’s why God gave us hands.”

Clarke snorted. “Yeah, that’s why we have hands, right. No, stupid.” Bellamy just stared at her. “You have to tell your sister we’re together before anyone else or we’ll be killed before either of us get off ever again.”

“Fuck,” he swore and tugged his phone out, then kicked his jeans off while he was at it. “Is finding out over facebook too cold? Will she really care? What am I thinking, O cares if I stub my fucking toe and don’t tell her.”

"I wonder where she gets that from." He sent a playful glare her way, but Clarke smiled and snugged into his chest. “I don’t care how you do it, just do it. I’m going to sleep, but when we wake up you are definitely going to be using the hands God gave you.”

“It’s a two-way street, baby.”

She didn’t say anything, but felt a kiss pressed to her forehead while the familiar jingle of Octavia’s number was dialed.

That girl was going to be so excited, but if she woke them up from their nap there would be hell to pay. The type of hell Bellamy’s hands couldn’t fix. Maybe. She didn’t know, but really, there wasn’t much that his hands couldn’t fix now that they were together, not that she would tell him that, but he probably already knew. He always knew everything about her before she did.

But that thought made her smile because now they were together.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please tell me how I did!  
> There will be an epilogue out in a few days (I think this weekend?). So check back soon!  
> Thanks so much again.


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